Disfigurement
by Anglachel
Summary: [COMPLETE] When Draco is injured in a horrifying accident, Hermione finds herself feeling pity for the Slytherin she had previously abhorred... A terrifying past haunts Draco, and will Hermione be the one to save him from it?
1. The Accident

A/N: I do not own any of J.K. Rowlings stuff, of course... So don't bother suing me, I can't even try to pretend that my writing is anywhere near Ms. Rowling's caliber...

Chapter 1

Hermione Granger knew something was wrong the moment she stepped into Professor Snape's dungeon. First off, an acrid smell was flooding the room, and the Snape was yelling something about dung bombs.

"That'll be a week of detention!" he bellowed, storming out of a cloudy plume that had gathered in the far corner of the dungeon, pointing a finger at the Weasley twins who were attempting to sneak out of the room. George and Fred shrugged and ran off, laughing madly as they did. Snape rearranged his robes and glared at them furiously. "What are you staring at?" he snapped finally. "Go to your desks." Hermione hurried to the table she shared with Harry and Ron, hoping that they would arrive on time. Snape sighed tiredly and went to his desk, rubbing his temples. "Today we will be creating the_ obscenus os medicamentum_, which was accidentally created by the infamous Henry Cornelius Agrippa. Agrippa intended to make dirt turn into gold, but instead made this potion which when taken, makes it impossible for the drinker to curse or use obscene language. This is apparent when you examine the name-"

Hermione waved her hand frantically, and when he did not call upon her, blurted out, "It means 'foul mouth potion'."

There was a long unpleasant silence.

"I do not appreciate the comments Miss Granger," Snape said coolly, and continued with his lecture. "As I was saying when Miss Granger interrupted is that-" Suddenly, the dungeon door slammed open and Ron and Harry rushed in, out of breath and panting frantically.

"Sorry professor," Ron choked out. "Professor McGonagall made us stay late, because-"

"Because you are absolutely pathetic and needed more assistance," Snape interjected smoothly. "I understand. However, you were late to my class, and Mr. Potter is known to be a pathological liar, so the two of you have detention with me tonight." Harry sagged, but said nothing. Ron was about to protest loudly, but Hermione motioned for him to stop, and he bitterly swallowed his words. "You may take your seats," Snape continued, motioning to where Hermione sat. "Now…. as I was saying…."

"That ugly old hag," Ron grumbled in Hermione's ear.

"I thought hag was reserved for women," Harry whispered, setting his bag on the ground.

"My point exactly," Ron replied easily with a quick smirk in Snape's direction. Harry smiled briefly but it faded when he realized what Snape wanted them to do.

"Oh no," he muttered. "Not this one. This is so hard…."

"No it isn't," Hermione said in a rather condescending manner. "If you stopped being so negative, none of this would be hard in the slightest."

"Shut it," Ron said with a hostile glare. Hermione shrugged and returned to her notes.

Snape cleared his throat.

"Oh good, sounds like he's coming down with a cold," Ron said gleefully under his breath.

"Since many students in this class are completely inadequate with their current partners, you will each be partnering up with someone new." The Gryffindors cast uneasy glances in the Slytherins direction, and shifted nervously in their seats. "Go."

Harry and Ron instantly paired up, and quickly the entire class had a partner, save for Hermione, and one other person.

"Professor," came an arrogant voice from across the room. "I need a partner." Hermione's breath caught in her throat, and her blood chilled. Snape smiled coldly at his favorite pupil.

"Draco, you may partner with Miss Granger." Hermione shakily stood and walked over to Malfoy's table, where he and his cronies sat. They glared at her through slit malicious eyes.

"Hello Granger," Draco said with a cruel smile. He turned to his friends and muttered, "stupid mud-blood." He was just loud enough for Hermione to hear, but Snape did not. Not that he would have done anything if he had heard.

"Begin your potions," Snape told the class. Hermione quickly pulled out her ingredients, and examined the recipe carefully.

"Add two cups of water," she told Draco as she rummaged in her bag, looking for the vervain, "and bring it to a boil."

"Why should I listen to you?" he asked insolently, watching her with haughty disdain. "I don't have to listen to stupid muggles like you."

"Then fail the class," she replied quickly. "I advise you stop being so stubborn and just do as I tell. Now add the crushed rosemary."

"No, you add the vervain first," he replied heatedly.

"Read the instructions, Malfoy."

Draco shrugged. "I don't believe that's how it's supposed to go, Mud-Blood." Hermione ground her teeth and shoved the vervain in his general direction.

"Fine, if you are going to be so bull-headed, be my guest," she growled, pulling out her potions book. "If it erupts in your face, don't blame me."

Draco added the vervain, and then the rosemary, and finally dumped the rest of the ingredients in. He stirred vigorously, looking up every second of two to see if she was watching. She ignored him, and continued reading.

Draco examined the potion. It was the right color, the right smell, but something was terribly wrong. If his partner was anyone else, he would have asked for help, but his pride just wouldn't let him. The potion was simmering quietly, while everyone else's was at a rolling boil. He gingerly put in more vervain, but instantly regretted it. Within seconds, the potion had turned a violent shade of purple and was rumbling. Draco tried to back away from the cauldron but it was too late.

A shriek came from near the cauldron and Hermione dropped her book and hurried to Draco's side. He was covered in purple potion, and was now screaming in agony.

"Don't move," she ordered as someone ran to get Madame Pomfrey. "Hold still." She carefully, using her cloak, wiped off most of the potion. He was covered in third degree burns and was now moaning horrendously. She gently eased him onto the ground, and took out her wand. She whispered a pain-numbing spell under her breath and he stopped howling.

"My face, my arms," he whispered, watching her with wild eyes.

"Hold on," she told him fiercely. "Everything is going to be fine."

"Miss Granger," Snape said, leaning over Draco. "What happened?" Just then, Madame Pomfrey rushed in, and took one look at Malfoy and screamed shrilly.

When Draco had been carted away to the Infirmary, Snape collapsed in his chair, and glared at them.

"Well, now you see what happens when you do not do a potion correctly," he said icily. "Continued with your work. Miss Granger, I would like to speak with you."


	2. Guilt

Chapter 2

After Hermione had explained what happened, Snape stroked his chin thoughtfully, and watched her with his terribly dark eyes.

"I am not inclined to believe you Miss Granger," he said, twirling his quill in his fingers idly. "Why did you not aid Mr. Malfoy with the potion?"

"He called me a mud-blood," Hermione replied through clenched teeth.

"Perhaps he was joking."

"Perhaps not," Hermione said quietly. "Pardon, professor, but I must go to my next class." Snape shrugged, and she hurried out into the busy corridor.

"What an evil git, he made you late for class," Ron said indignantly during dinner. "That awful-"

Hermione smiled at his earnestness. "Ron, just calm down. It was completely reasonable to detain me. If I were a teacher, I would be worried as well. Malfoy and I have never been on the best of terms."

"That is the understatement of the century," Ron said with a tired laugh. "Malfoy has only hated us since before we even met him."

"I hope he's okay," Hermione said with a sigh. "It's my fault, in a way."

"Was it your fault Malfoy was an idiot?" Ron asked suddenly. "No! Of course not. Hey." He paused. "Where's Harry?" Hermione shrugged, and finished her food at a rather rapid pace.

"What's the hurry?" Ron asked as she jumped up from the table.

"I'm going to make sure Malfoy is okay," she called over her shoulder as she exited the Great Hall.

"Where the hell is Harry?" Ron mused as he turned back to his food.

Hermione stepped into the quiet, dark infirmary, and felt her heart jump up her throat. Madame Pomfrey was sitting on a bed, talking to someone in low tones. All of the other beds were empty. It could only be one person who was lying there. Hermione steeled herself, and strode forward forcefully. She would not let her fear get in her way of apologizing.

Draco listened to Madame Pomfrey talk, clenching his eyes shut, for fear he would see his arms again.

"Draco, we are searching for a potion which could restore your skin, but in the event we cannot find one, you must be prepared to live with these scars."

"Do not tell my family, yet," he croaked. "I am having a hard time believing this, my mother would be horrified."

"Draco, it is the school's responsibility to inform your parents of an injury occurring while on school property-"

"Fine, you can tell them, just don't tell them how it happened."

"Very well then." Draco felt her get off the bed, and started walking, but stopped and began speaking with someone. "Draco," Madame Pomfrey said. "Do you feel up to a visitor?"

"Sure," he said with a slow sigh. "Who is it?"  
"It's Hermione."

Hermione looked down on the broken body of the boy whom she had called her enemy for the entire time she had been at Hogwarts, and instantly felt stupid.

"Hello Granger," he said, not opening his eyes.

"Hello Malfoy," she replied, biting her lip. His potion had acted like fire, and burned up his skin. His once beautiful face was now nothing but a mess of blackened skin.

"Come to gloat?" he asked, his voice fading.

She stiffened. "No. What kind of person do you think I am?" She paused. "Never mind, do not answer that question." He stifled a laugh, but a smile peeked out from the corners of his mouth.

"So if you are not here to gloat, why are you here?"

Hermione shifted her feet nervously. "I don't really know. I think it is because I should have helped you with the potion, but my pride got in my way. I wanted to prove that I was superior, but I was wrong."

"No," Draco snapped bitterly. "You were right, and I was just being stupid. It's not your fault.'

"Draco," Hermione said, her voice shaking. "It's my fault too."

Draco laughed, a heart wrenching sound. "Go away Granger." Hermione spun on her heel, and ran out, hastily wiping away bitter tears.

She rushed into the Commons Room and collapsed on the couch in front of the fire. Harry was sitting with someone on the other side of the couch.

"Hello," Harry said genially as she buried her face in her hands.

"Oh, it's all my fault!" she sobbed. "He looks awful, and who knows if he'll get better! It's all my fault!"

"No," Ron said, running his fingers through Harry's hair. "It's Malfoy's fault."

"Don't you feel any pity for him?" Hermione snarled, ignoring the look of shock on their faces. "You are so heartless, Ron!"

"I feel pity for him," Ron said with a careless shrug. "But he's stupid." Hermione threw her hands up in the air in disgust, and was about to leave, when she noticed that Ron was sitting in Harry's lap.

"That's why you were so worried about where Harry was at dinner!' she said gleefully. "Ha! I knew it all along."

Ron quickly jumped out of Harry's lap and blushed bright red.

"Don't tell anyone," Harry ordered.

"Why would I?" she questioned with a slight laugh. "I was right!" She skipped off to her dorm room, but thought of Draco, and her happiness was dashed.

Hermione hardly slept a wink that night. She tossed, turned, and paced around the room, wondering what Malfoy was thinking. Breakfast was a silent affair, with Harry and Ron casting anxious glances in her direction.

"So, you're sure you don't mind?" Harry inquired timidly. She smiled gently at him, and put down her fork.

"Were you worried I had a crush on one of you?"

Ron nodded

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but I only think of you two as friends." Harry sighed in relief, and returned to his bacon.

Hermione went through her classes in a daze, amazing her fellow students and her teachers.

"What has gotten into you, Hermione?" Professor McGonagall asked during Transfiguration. "You haven't raised your hand all day." A ripple of laughter spread across the room.

"Huh?" Hermione said, shaking her head and waking up from her reverie. McGonagall frowned slightly, and continued with the lesson.

After the class was over, Hermione was packing up, when McGonagall confronted her about her lack of interest in class.

"Is something wrong, Miss Granger?" she asked, watching her best pupil over the top of her glasses.

"I'm just worried about Draco Malfoy," Hermione confessed, looking around to make sure no one from her house was nearby.

Professor McGonagall nodded knowingly. "I understand, but do not blame yourself Hermione. Mr. Malfoy has had that coming to him for years."


	3. Scars

Chapter 3

Hermione rushed to the infirmary, hoping to talk more to Draco, to tell him it really was her fault. However, when she reached the infirmary door, she heard voices from within, one's that made a shiver travel down her spine. She stopped, and hid in the shadows, hoping no one would notice her behind the door.

"Draco, you were hurt doing potions," a female voice came, high pitched and cold. "I can't believe you would injure yourself like this doing something you are really quite good at."

"Mum," Malfoy sighed. "It was my fault, I messed up. That's all. I'll be fine."

"But your beautiful face," his mother squealed unhappily. "Look at it. It's so ugly now."

Malfoy sighed. "I know."

Someone was now addressing Madame Pomfrey. "You had better get his face back to the way it was before hand. It's all this stupid school's fault!" It was the infamous Lucius Malfoy, Draco's evil and malicious father.

"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey said angrily. "We are doing the best we can. There are other students who are injured as well; I cannot focus my attentions solely on your son. You will have to be patient."

"This is unforgivable," Mrs. Malfoy snapped, her voice taut with false grief. "I will be taking Draco from here within the week if you do not come up with a solution to this problem."

"No, Mum!" Draco said desperately. "I don't want to leave!"

"Shut up," his father hissed. "You'll be going to Durmstrang if you don't shape up now." Draco fell silent. Hermione ran down the hall, but could not get Draco's words out of her mind.

The library was silent, save for the librarian, who was huddled over a book in the far corner. She immediately headed for the medicinal potions section, and began sifting through Hogwarts large collection.

Around mid-night she found what she was looking for. She checked it out, for the librarian was long gone, and crept up to the dormitory. She'd show Madame Pomfrey in the morning.

Hermione skipped breakfast, and hurried to the infirmary. Draco was still asleep, but Madame Pomfrey was bustling around as usual, doing her morning check ups. She was examining a girl who had somehow gotten three heads, when Hermione walked up.

"I found a potion which might help Malfoy," Hermione said eagerly, opening the book to the marked page. "See, _augmen callum_. It regrows skin."

"My, my," Madame Pomfrey said with interest, taking the book from Hermione's arms. "That would do the trick. Thank you very much Hermione. I had best keep this book. Would you like to go tell Draco the good news?"

Hermione nodded, and ran over to the bed where Draco lay sleeping. As soon as she was standing over him, his crystal blue eyes opened and he looked up at her in surprise.

"Guess what! I found a potion that will help your skin grow back. It won't look exactly the same, but you'll still be just as handsome-" she stopped abruptly and flushed red.

"You think I'm handsome?" he asked in surprise.

"Well everyone does," she replied, very flustered. "Anyway, I have class. See you tomorrow." She fled the infirmary, cursing herself as she ran to History of Magic.

Harry must have sensed her humiliation, and wisely said nothing, but Ron, the ever insensitive, remarked about her silence.

"Normally Hermione, we can't get you to shut-up," he said with a laugh. "Today we can't get you to say a word."

"Word," she said irritably. Harry grinned and Ron rolled his eyes.

"Hermione, you can do better than that."

"Go away," she snapped.

"That's better," Ron charged ahead, oblivious to her growing fury. "Now, can you give me a full sentence?" Hermione clenched her hands, and stormed off to her dorm. Harry stroked Ron's hand.

"You probably shouldn't have bothered her," he said with a slight shrug. "She isn't in a very good mood."

"How am I supposed to know what the fuck her problem is?" Ron asked, running his hand through his bright red hair.

Hermione ran up the stairs fuming. She slammed the dorm door behind her, and instantly felt contrite. It wasn't Ron's fault she was so grumpy and tired. At least she had found the potion, she could only hope it would work…

When Hermione arrived at the infirmary the next day, Draco was sitting up and looking much better. Madame Pomfrey was handing him a rather vile looking potion, and motioning for him to drink it.

"This should work," she told Hermione, watching Malfoy with a critical eye. He hastily swallowed it, and if he had had any of his pale skin left, Hermione was sure he would have turned green. Instead, he lay down, and stared at her.

"I wanted," he paused as if in pain. "To say thank-you."

"For what?" Hermione asked, completely baffled. Madame Pomfrey bustled away, and they watched her go.

"For," he stopped again. "You know. Finding the potion. Even if doesn't work, it was nice of you to spend time looking for it."

"It was nothing," Hermione replied, thinking of her long search in the library. He must have noticed the bags under her eyes, because he shook his head.

"No, Hermione," he said, his lips turning up in the corners, the faint vestiges of a smile. "You must have spent ages looking for a potion to help your worst enemy get better? Tell me you are regretting it now."

"Why would I regret helping someone?" she asked. "Even if they are one of my worst enemies?"

"That is where you and I differ."

As Hermione left, she suddenly realized that he had called her by her first name, instead of his usual 'mud-blood,' or 'Granger.' She shook her head, realizing that it was a simple slip of the tongue.

Harry and Ron were blissfully quiet about the whole Potions situation, though many blamed her.

Pansy Parkinson had tripped her more than once in the hall during the last week, and the whole 'mud-blood' sayings had increased twice-fold.

Malfoy's fan-club glared at her as she passed, muttering things about how she had injured their 'prince.'

It seemed nothing could get worse when it turned out that the potion wasn't working as well as it should.

The black, charred skin was flaking away, revealing pink skin beneath, but there were strange scars across his cheeks that wouldn't go away. As Hermione was leaving one day, Madame Pomfrey confided in her,

"Those scars were not inflicted by the potion."

"I don't understand," Hermione had said.

"Those scars were already there. They had just faded over time. Mr. Malfoy refuses to tell me how he got them."

"That's very interesting," Hermione mused. "Do you think his father did it?"

"I wouldn't put it past Lucius," Madame Pomfrey laughed sardonically. "But, somehow, I think that those scars were inflicted by something else. Something worse."

A/N: I changed the formatting around a teensy bit, and if it's unsatisfactory or you think it's terrible, or something of the sort, do let me know, and I'll change it back. Please review!


	4. Harry's Dreams

Chapter 4

Everyday, Hermione went to visit Draco, her guilty conscience constantly plaguing her waking and sleeping thoughts. Draco, however, did not notice, but continued to wall himself up from the inside. He evaded her concerned gaze, and when she questioned him gently, he only replied with vague answers. Hermione did her best to make him feel better about the scars that ran across his pale cheeks.

"At least all of the burnt skin is gone," she said comfortingly. "The scars aren't all that bad."

He merely closed his eyes. Hermione took that as a signal to leave.

Madame Pomfrey worried about him as well. Whenever his friends visited, he grew steadily paler as they plagued him with questions about what had happened.

When they left, he looked frail and weak. No one had ever seen him like that before.

"Hermione," Draco said one day while she was giving him the Transfiguration homework. "Why do you keep visiting me?" Hermione stopped scribbling and looked up, staring at him quizzically.

"I'll stop if you don't want me to," she said quietly, slipping the paper onto the table beside his bed.

"No," he replied hastily. "It's just that I don't understand why you keep coming. You hate me." Hermione smiled despite the severity of his expression.

"I don't hate you. I just hate the way you were raised."

"What's wrong with the way I was raised?" he asked heatedly, a mask of feigned anger sliding onto his handsome face. She dropped her smile, and shoved her book into her bag.

"What do you think?" she asked coolly, and then walked briskly out of the infirmary.

She came the next day after dinner, and found Draco leaning over a book about Muggles.

"What are you reading?" she asked as she pulled a chair up beside the bed.

"_How Muggles Live Their Lives_, by Thomas Wells," Draco said in a disgusted tone. "The most boring thing I've ever read."

"Typical," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes.

"How can you stand being around them? They're so dull!" Draco moaned, tossing the book onto the bedside table.

"My parents are muggles," Hermione answered stiffly. "I was born a muggle. I am used to it."

"Still-"

"Draco, you were born around magic. Imagine a muggle being in the wizarding world, they'd be just as confused as you would be if you were forced to live in muggle London."

Draco frowned suddenly. "But, we're much more superior to them."

"Malfoy, I'm muggle. Am I stupider than you?" She held up a finger before he could answer. "Think before you reply to that question." Draco paused.

"No," he finally said grudgingly. Hermione nodded, and pulled out her assignment book.

"Now, in Potions we are studying…."

There was something wrong with Harry. Ron was as usual, completely oblivious.

Hermione, however, noticed that he was silent and withdrawn from their conversations. He had dark rings around his piercing green eyes, and his hand shook whenever he held something.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked while they were doing homework in the Commons room. Ron had run off to the bathroom, leaving the two of them at the table.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully, dropping his quill onto his parchment. He ran his hand through his dark hair and looked at her woefully. "I don't know."

"Has something upsetting happened?"

"Not particularly," he replied, and a slight tremor ran through his voice. Hermione sighed tiredly.

"Harry, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong," she said looking at him sternly.

His shoulders slumped. "Hermione," he said, but then stopped.

"What?" she prodded.

He looked around, as if someone were listening. "I keep having dreams about Malfoy, I'm afraid to sleep because of these dreams."

"Malfoy!" Hermione said in alarm. "Do you think he's in danger?"

Harry looked around again. "Yes."

"Why?"

"His father," Harry said through gritted teeth. "I can't explain it Hermione. It's just a premonition, and I could be completely wrong."

"You can tell me Harry, I have Draco's best interests at heart."

He shuddered, and then continued with his story. "I see Malfoy, in the infirmary, and his father standing over him, yelling. Yelling about Voldemort not being pleased."

Hermione flinched at hearing the name, but nodded for him to continue.

"Lucius says things about how Voldemort wants Malfoy, I mean, Draco, to kill Dumbledore, but Draco won't do it. Draco says something about how it isn't the right time. And then, suddenly, Draco has a huge gash across his cheek, and I have no idea how it got there. Lucius is laughing and saying that Voldemort will hurt Draco more if he doesn't kill Dumbledore."

"Wow, Harry," Hermione finally said after a long tense silence. "That's pretty serious. Should I tell Draco?"

"Yeah, you should. I should probably tell Dumbledore, but I'm too afraid," Harry whispered.

"Afraid what?"

"That he'll laugh or something."

"Harry, when has he ever laughed at you?"

"Never," Harry said, looking positively miserable. "But ever since, you know, Sirius died… I haven't been able to really trust him."

"Trust me, Dumbledore won't laugh. Dumbledore, even if he doesn't really believe you, will do something about it. I promise."

Just then, Ron skipped up, a jubilant expression on his face.

"Guess what I found in the toilet?" he exclaimed. Hermione made a face.

"Do we really want to know?" she asked.

"Trevor!" He pulled out the green toad from behind his back, displaying it proudly. "Boy is Neville going to be happy!"

The next morning, Hermione went immediately to the infirmary, to tell Draco about Harry's dream. Madame Pomfrey was standing by her patient's bed when she arrived, staring down at Draco with a slightly puzzled expression

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked as soon as she was within hearing range.

"Mr. Malfoy seems to have caught pneumonia over night," Madame Pomfrey told her as she spooned a purple potion into Draco's mouth. "I have no idea how he caught it, he was perfectly well last night." She sighed, and walked off, muttering about drafty castles.

"Draco, did you give yourself a cold?" she asked as soon as Madame Pomfrey was far enough away. He looked up innocently.

"Why would I do something like that?"

"Answer the question, and don't lie. I'll know if you do." He sighed deeply.

"Yes," he mumbled ill naturedly. "I gave myself the damned cold. And I'm regretting it now. If I'd known it was such a big deal-"

"Draco, don't dismiss this as something immaterial," Hermione snapped, putting her hands on her hips. "You were getting better! Why are you inflicting yourself with-"

"I am not!" he hissed, suddenly venomous. "How dare you assume…"

"I know you better than you think, Draco Malfoy!" she said. "How dare you do this to yourself? It's bad enough you won't tell me about those scars on your cheeks."

"I have a right to keep that private," he cried angrily.

"Fine," she said. "That's not why I'm here. Look, you have to watch out for your father. Harry had a premonition. He saw you being hurt by your father, in this very infirmary. Draco, you must be careful."

"Careful?" he spat. "Why should you care about me?"

"We've gone over this already!" she cried in frustration. "You're just being stubborn and mulish. Just listen. You have got to be careful."

"Of my own father?"

"Malfoy," she said coldly. "You know very well that your father isn't the nicest person on the planet. He and Voldemort are the only one's whom you truly fear. Beware them both. If you end up dead, because you are meddling in something you shouldn't, don't blame me."

"Funny," he laughed cruelly. "You said that before I got a face full of potion."

Hermione picked up her bag. "I warned you then, and I am warning you now. Sometimes I am wrong, but rarely when people I care about are involved."

She stalked out but halted when she reached the hallway. Had she just said she cared about Draco Malfoy? This day could not get any worse.

A/N: Hmm, yes I agree with Hermione. Admitting affection for a Malfoy, tsk tsk. Don't worry, Draco's gonna take a chapter of two more to soften up, and even then, our prejudices never truly leave, do they...


	5. Paranormal Upsurge

Chapter 5

Hermione knew something was wrong when she walked into the infirmary the next morning. Draco had a long bleeding gash across his pale cheek.

Hermione gasped. It matched all of the other scars that covered his beautiful face. "Did your father do this to you?"

"No," Draco replied sullenly, looking down at his lap.

"Please tell me the truth."

He looked up at her; all of the anger gone from his crystal blue eyes, and the only thing that remained was fear. Blatant fear. "I wasn't lying."

Hermione sat down heavily, and crossed her arms. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I'm just very willing to accuse your father."

He bowed his head again.

"I thought about what you said yesterday." He sighed. "But I didn't believe you until he showed up."

"I'm sorry."

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. Not believing you has only gotten me into trouble," he said bitterly.

Hermione watched him in surprise.

"You don't have to be sorry," she said firmly. "We all make mistakes. I have made many mistakes."

"No you haven't," he snarled. "You're perfect Granger, the one everyone looks up to. The one everyone emulates."

Hermione laughed angrily, and leapt to her feet. "You think my life is perfect? It is far from, Draco Malfoy."

"How could it not be perfect? You have loving parents, a normal family. You don't have to worry about impressing sadistic wizards who'd kill you if you so much as made a wrong step."

"Malfoy, I don't want to talk about my life with you. You're the one who's practically perfect. You've got hundreds of friends, and are popular like I'll never be. So what if you screwed up on a potion or two, you don't have hundreds of people calling you a mud-blood. I have to live down something that I have no choice in. You think I wanted to be born to a muggle family? No one believes that I'm a good witch because I'm a 'mud-blood.'"

Draco closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "At least

you don't have the Dark Lord breathing down your neck all the time."

"Oh, as if the Dark Lord scares me. I'd rather die than be a coward like you, Malfoy! Just leave your family if you're so eager to be rid of them."

"Just leave my family? They'd track me down for the rest of my life, I'd never be safe."

"Are you any safer in their clutches?"

Draco was silent. Hermione continued.

"I'd rather be happy and in danger, than be in agony and be in danger at the same time. Make up your mind, Malfoy." She collapsed back into the chair. "Why am I even arguing with you? You're supposed to be getting better."

"I am getting better," he replied stoutly.

"I'm sure you are," she said with an exhausted sigh. "And me yelling at you is getting you better much faster. I'm sorry Draco, maybe I should just stop coming."

Draco looked up at her in shock. "You can't do that."

"Do what?"

"Not come."

It was Hermione's turn to be surprised. "What do you mean?"

Draco made a face. "I mean that you should still come. I enjoy fighting with you."

"You get a kick out of seeing me turn blue in the face with worry for you?" she asked in disbelief. "I can't believe you."

"You worry about me?"

"Haven't you figured that out by now? Of course I worry about you."

He frowned angrily. "I don't need your pity."

"That's good, because I'm not giving it." She grabbed her bag and marched out, and wondered how it was that every time she went to see him, she ended up running out furious.

"Harry, I just don't understand him," she wailed that night in the Commons room. "It's like he deliberately aggravates me."

"Maybe he doesn't mean to get you mad," Harry suggested kindly. "Perhaps he's just as confused as you are."

"I suppose," she said miserably. "But still."

"I have a pretty good idea of what's going on," Harry said finally, passing his Divination homework to her. "But I can't tell you until I'm sure."

"About what?"

"You and Draco."

"There is no 'me and Draco.'"

"There is. But you both refuse to see it. Anyway, let's change the topic. I told Dumbledore. Dumbledore, apparently, already knows about Voldemort wanting to kill him. He's not worried in the slightest."

"Did he laugh?"

"No."

"Good. Now, why isn't he worried?"

"He said something about the Order keeping an eye on the Malfoys, especially Draco."

"Draco has pneumonia, he can't make a fire, much less perform a murder."

Suddenly, realization hit Hermione like a thunderbolt. "I understand now! I could hug him!"

"What?" Harry asked.

"Okay, let me explain. Draco came down with pneumonia abruptly, without warning. I was able to quickly discern that he'd made himself become sick, but for the life of me, couldn't figure out why. Remember your premonition? It came true, and now Draco has a giant gash across his face to mach his other scars. He was using the pneumonia as a excuse so he wouldn't have to kill Dumbledore!"

"Not a bad idea," Harry mused to himself. "Definitely didn't work though."

"Yes it did."

"No, Voldemort and his father are still really angry. They already know that Draco his reluctant to kill the headmaster, and now they're going to make him do it, no matter how sick he makes himself."

Hermione reluctantly went back to the infirmary, resolving not to argue with Draco. Draco was propped up and reading again, this time it was a book on muggle electricity.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, setting her bag on the floor and sitting down. "How are you?"

"Not bad," he said with a slight shrug. "Getting better."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Bad."

"I see," Hermione said lightly. "Harry said that your father and Voldemort want you to kill Dumbledore." Draco's face tightened, and his cheeks flushed in anger.

Suddenly, Hermione did something she never thought she would do. She hugged him.

He did not pull away as she expected him to, but simply let her hug him.

"I wanted to say thank you," she said breathlessly. "For making yourself sick. And saying no, that you wouldn't kill him. I know it sounds stupid, but when Harry told me you would do that, I couldn't help but be glad you were my friend."

"We're friends?"

She faltered. "I suppose, it's a rather one sided thing. I view you as a friend, but I'd understand if you didn't feel the same way."

Draco was silent, but watched her with a strange look in his

eyes.

Hermione bit her lip, and picked up her bag. "I guess I'd better go," she whispered, and ran out, choking back a sob that she knew would over flow as soon as he couldn't see her.

Hermione trudged up to the Commons room after dinner, feeling awful. Her stomach hurt and nothing seemed to be going right in her life. Neither Ron or Harry had shown up for dinner, and she didn't want to know what they were doing.

"Bees's knees," she growled at the pink lady, and after the door swung open, she hopped into the room.

Harry and Ron were sitting at a table in the corner, arguing vehemently over something.

"What are you two fighting about now?"

Harry thrust a copy of the Daily Prophet at her.

"You're still reading this?" she asked in disbelief. "I thought you had stopped."

"I had," Harry said, shooting a dirty look at Ron. "But Ron here noticed an article that might interest you."

Hermione took the paper, and examined the cover.

"_Paranormal Upsurge_," Hermione read, and then gave Harry a ludicrous look. "What does this have to do with anything?"

"Hermione," Harry sighed. "Ever since Voldemort came back, weird stuff has been happening all over the world, to muggles and wizards alike. Hermione, this might explain those weird scars on Draco's cheeks."

"What?"

Ron, who was very pale, interrupted. "Hermione, I had an uncle who was repeatedly hit over the head with a chair once."

"And? Maybe Peeves has a twin."

Harry sighed and gave Ron an impatient glance. "Hermione, usually you're the one explaining things, but-"

"Have you ever heard of a doppelganger?" Ron asked.

A/N: Heh heh. Doppelgangers... well. If you don't know what they are, well, you'll find out next chapter. Sorry to leave you hanging. :) Leave a review. Please.


	6. Doppelganger

Chapter 6

"Of course I know what a doppelganger is. A doppelganger is someone's ghostly counterpart. They are invisible to human eyes and when they reveal themselves, it is considered to be bad luck," Hermione answered levelly.

"Yes," Harry said. "That is what we think is harming Draco."

"That's preposterous Harry, and you know it," Hermione snapped, plopping down in a chair. "Why would Draco's own doppelganger harm him?"

"Why would Draco's own father harm him?" Ron asked cryptically.

"We don't know that he does," Hermione pointed out. "But then again, we don't know anything about Draco's home life."

"I believe that is doppelganger might be under a spell or something, or has been instructed to watch after Draco and make sure he doesn't get into trouble," Harry suggested.

Hermione buried her head in her hands. "This is so complicated. What are we going to do?"

"First off, you can ask Draco about it," Ron said determinedly. "And we will go from there."

"Draco and I had another fight," Hermione confessed. "I don't think I can talk to him right now."

"Don't tell me you want me to talk to him?" Harry laughed. "He'd curse me dead before I said a word."

"I'm not doing it!" Ron shuddered. "God, I don't want to be the person he's mad at."

Hermione groaned. "Fine, but why is it always me?"

Hermione dragged her feet back into the infirmary, dreading Draco's reaction at the sight of her.

"Hello, Malfoy," she said civilly, sitting down. He was writing a paper for Professor McGonagall, which he put aside when she greeted him.

"Hello, Granger," he replied. "Can I help you?"

"This may sound a bit odd, but…" She bit her lip. "Malfoy, I know your father didn't give you that cut on your cheek. Who did?"

"I don't know," he said.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Granger."

"No, you aren't."

"Are you accusing me of lying?"

"Yes."

He sighed, fell back onto the pillows, and then glared at her. "How did you know?"

"When you are lying, or extending the truth, you fidget with your fingers."

"I won't tell you," he said with a scowl.

"Why not?"

"Because it's none of your business."

"Look, Malfoy; Harry, Ron, and I think that it is your doppelganger."

"How did you know?"

Hermione nearly fell out of her seat. "We're right?"

"Yes, Granger. You're always right, remember?"

Hermione frowned at him. "Stop being so self-deprecating."

"Answer my question."

"I refuse to dignify your demands," she replied haughtily. "Unless you tell me something as well."

"Fine, what do you want to know?"

"Why the hell is your own damn doppelganger attacking you?" she asked loudly.

Madame Pomfrey shot them a warning look. Hermione quieted down.

"My doppelganger never attacked me before last year," Draco replied smoothly, looking around to make sure there was no one near. "It all started when my father asked me to join the Death Eaters."

Hermione leaned forward. "Go on."

"At first, I was very excited, but as they outlined what they did, I became less and less interested. I may be cruel at times, but never sadistic."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I think you are being too kind." Draco shrugged.

"Anyhow, but the more I struggled to get free, the harder they tightened their grasps. Suddenly, strange things started happening. I would look in the mirror, and there would be two of me. I would walk to the bathroom at night, and I would hear footsteps behind me. Finally, I told my mother." He twisted his face, and stared at his pale hands, now unblemished and beautiful again.

"What did she say?"

"She told me about my doppelganger. She said that the Dark Lord knew how to take over your other side, and it was the Dark Lord's eyes and hands. She said that it would make sure I did what He wanted."

Hermione gasped. "So, it's like Voldemort's tool! I understand now. So, when Voldemort tells it to hurt you, it will?"

"Of course," Draco said with a tired shrug. "It has done worse than cut me."

"I'll find a way to get rid of it," Hermione vowed abruptly, leaping to her feet. "There has got to be a way of breaking it free from Voldemort."

"Hermione, that's the problem. It went willingly, if you broke the bond, the doppelganger would just renew it. I can never escape."

"No, I meant, we have to get rid of the doppelganger itself. Destroy it completely."

Draco shook his head. "Wouldn't that destroy me?"

"It shouldn't," Hermione replied calmly. "I'll find out."

Once again, Hermione found herself pouring through an old medicinal potions book late at night. Why was she doing this?

That's right, for Draco Malfoy. Who thought her stupid and… She paused. No, he had admitted that she was smart. He had admitted that he cared. Yes, she conceded, he did care. Maybe not as much as she did, but maybe one day he would value her company.

'Oh, if only there was a legal friendship potion,' she thought grumpily, opening another heavy text book. 'That would make things a hell of a lot easier.'

Hermione nearly fell asleep in her porridge the next morning, the spell clenched tightly in her white fist.

"Hermione," Ron had said fiercely, shaking her awake. "Wake up you stupid…" He continued to mutter as she wearily shook her head.

"What time is it?" she muttered, groping for her watch only to find that she'd left it in her dorm. "I feel like I've been run over by a steam roller."

"What's a steam roller?" Ron asked interestedly.

"It's a muggle saying," Harry explained. "It means that her head hurts."

"Wouldn't it be simpler to say her head hurts?" Ron questioned in a disgusted tone. "Bloody Christ, muggles are strange."

"I've got to go to the infirmary," Hermione said with a yawn, shoving her schedule into her bag. "I have to go talk to Madame Pomfrey."

"Your head hurts that bad?" Ron asked as Hermione got up. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Remember, Draco is being haunted by a Voldemort possessed doppelganger?"

"Oh yeah," Ron said vaguely, not remembering in the slightest. "How did that go?"

Draco was paler than he'd ever been before, and Hermione could see the blue pulsing veins on his ashy grey temple.

"You look awful," she said worriedly, feeling his forehead.

"You too," he coughed. "You look like you haven't gotten any sleep at all."

"I haven't," she said with a faint smile. "I found a spell that might work. It supposed to exorcise the demon…"


	7. The Spell

Chapter 7

Hermione awoke at 3:45 A.M., drenched in cold sweat. She knew something was wrong, but could not pin her finger on it. Perhaps she was simply nervous.

She always got worried before performing a big piece of magic. She wondered if Draco was worrying too. She shook her head, and dismissed her thoughts of Malfoy. He wasn't thinking of her, of this she was sure.

She crawled from under the warm sheets and stood by the window, letting the moonlight stream over her body.

Hermione wandered from class to class in a daze, running over every aspect of the story.

What could go wrong?

Nothing, she hoped.

* * *

Hermione ate dinner at an alarming speed, and found herself rushing to the infirmary.

Draco was waiting, sitting in a chair, dressed as a muggle would, reading.

"You ready?" she asked, her voice wavering.

"No," he replied, folding the corner of the page and placing it on the bedside table heavily. "You?" He smoothed his jeans nervously.

"What do you think?" she asked with a slight laugh. "Of course I'm nervous. My heart is pounding furiously."

"Hermione," Draco started. "What if this goes badly?"

"Well, then we're in trouble," she joked. He frowned.

"I…"

"What, Draco?"

"Never mind, Granger," he finished lamely. "Just do the spell."

"Tell me. Is there some weird medical condition I should know about?"

"No. Just, be careful."

"I will be."

"Don't get me hurt."

"I won't."

"Don't get yourself hurt, I don't want to get blamed," he muttered.

"Sure," she said faintly.

"Hermione, really."

"I'm taking you seriously, don't worry," she assured him. "Now let's just get this over with."

He sighed. "Just get it over with. Okay."

Hermione took a deep breath and cleared her mind, pulling her wand with shaking hands from her bag.

"Wish me luck," she murmured.

"Luck."

Hermione raised the wand, and opened her mouth.

"_Umbra Recantem Draco_," she said with a wavering voice. "_Umbra Recantem Draco_!"

Suddenly, the windows in the infirmary flew open, sending cold winter wind into the already chilly room. The wind swept around the beds, snapping sheets and sending up shrieks. The air swirled and twisted like a vortex in the center of the room, the fog caught up in the tornado. Hermione watched in horror as something stepped out of the fog.

It was Draco.

Or it was Draco before the accident. He was flawless and beautiful in his cruelty. He raised a hand and reached toward her. Hermione froze.

Draco interrupted her frozen thoughts.

"Destroy it Hermione!" he yelled over the din of the wind.

"I can't!" she replied, filled with fear. "He looks to much like you!"

"Just do it Hermione," the other Draco said, pointing at Draco. "Kill me and you kill him."

"No!" she shrieked, and turned to Draco for help. "You do it!"

"I can't!" he screamed back, his blue eyes filled with fear and shock. "I'll mess up!"

The other Draco stepped forward, his handsome face pulled into an ugly sneer.

"Hermione," he said, voice like honey. "You know you can't do it, so, prepare to die!" He pulled a silver blade from his back pocket and raised it.

Hermione gasped.

He took a step closer.

"Run Hermione!" Draco bellowed, and chucked a book at the doppelganger.

That moment was enough for Hermione to break free of the reverie and bold. The doppelganger roared in anger, and chased after her.

"Oh, god," she muttered to herself as she sprinted down the hallway, pushing students out of her way. "Move, move!" she yelled as she shoved her way to the stairs. "Got to get to Dumbledore."

The doppelganger had broken into a run and she could hear his light footsteps behind her, laughing maniacally.

"Hermione," Ron yelled. "Where are you going?"

"I'll talk later," she explained as she rushed past. She ran out into the quad, and ran through a puddle. The doppelganger followed her through it, and now she could see its footprints when she looked over her shoulder.

It was gaining.

Hermione rushed up a flight of stairs, hoping that she could get into Dumbledore's office.

She pounded on the office door, but no one opened.

"Lemon drop," she said to the gargoyle, panting furiously. "Cockroach clusters, Blister Bubblegum, umm…." She could hear the ghost coming. She pushed the door while muttering candy names.

"… Blood lollipops, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans," she screamed in desperation, seeing the wet footprints get closer and closer. "Oh, god, fine, um… Chocolate Frogs!"

Suddenly the door opened and Hermione fell in. She dazedly jumped to her feet and ran up the revolving staircase. Her feet felt like lead and her lungs were going to pop.

She slammed Dumbledore's office door open, scrambling as fast as she could.

"Dumbledore!" she screamed, desperation making her voice crack. "Oh please, Dumbledore!"

No one was there.

The office door swung open, and Hermione spun around hopefully. She screamed.

Draco's doppelganger was standing there, an evil glint in his beautiful eyes, holding the knife.

Hermione backed up.

"Leave me alone!" she begged, groping for her wand. The doppelganger smiled evilly.

"Hermione," he whispered, caressing the blade with a pale hand. "Why are you so afraid?"

"I don't want to die," she sobbed, cringing as he stepped closer.

"Death is beautiful," the ghost murmured comfortingly, reaching out with his knife-free hand. He stroked her cheek with his cold hands, sending a chill down her spine.

"Leave me alone," she stuttered, nearly knocking over Fawkes' cage. The beautiful bird was not there, and Hermione wished that she had been able to die with the bird there to comfort her.

The ghost's face turned ugly. "You thought you could steal Draco from me, didn't you? You little whore."

"Steal Draco? What are you talking about?" she spat, gathering her hatred close to her heart. "You're just a stupid insignificant ghost."

"I know you love him," the ghost hissed loudly. "A stupid mud-blood slut likes a pure-blood gentleman. How touching."

Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at his face. "Draco wouldn't say things like that to me."

"Are you so sure of that?" the doppelganger purred.

Hermione hesitated. The ghost took the opportunity.

"_Accio wand_!" he exploded, and Hermione's wand flew from her hand into his. The ghost smiled, and raised the knife again.

He looked at the knife lovingly. "I think I'll kill you the muggle way, painfully."

Hermione looked desperately for a weapon, but could see nothing that would help her.

She was doomed.

The doppelganger's smile dropped, and his hand swooped down in an arc, the blade glittering madly in the candlelight.

Time held still as Hermione gasped in fear.

Suddenly someone screamed,

"_Umbra Necavit_!"

The Draco doppelganger suddenly froze, his beautiful features twisting horribly in pain. He shrieked once, and disappeared in a cloud of foul smelling smoke.

Hermione collapsed onto her knees as the knife hit the ground beside her. It shattered upon impact, and the shards disappeared in another plume of smoke.

Draco was by her side, calling her name.

"Hermione, are you hurt?" he begged, smoothing her hair out of her dark eyes. "Did it hurt you?"

"No, it didn't," she said, looking up into his deep blue eyes. "I'm fine. Just a little scared."

"Why didn't you destroy it?"

She blushed furiously. "I can't say."

"Tell me."

"He looked too much like you, I couldn't bear to destroy it. Plus, I wasn't sure who was who."

"I'm sorry I couldn't come sooner, Madame Pomfrey delayed me."

"You did the spell perfectly, why were you so afraid to do it?" Hermione asked. He shrugged.

"I guess after the potions accident, I've had really bad self-esteem. I was worried I'd hurt you in the process."

"You were worried about me?" she asked quietly. He nodded slowly, looking at her with liquid eyes.

Hermione smiled softly, and tentatively touched ran her finger across the pale scars on his cheek. He reached up and covered her hand with his.

He sighed. "Hermione, there's so much I want to say…"

"Me too," she replied. "But-"

Swiftly, he leaned forward and kissed her on the lips.

Hermione drew in a deep breath, but suddenly jerked away.

Dumbledore stood at the door of his office watching them amusedly, Fawkes sitting serenely on his shoulder.

"Good evening Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy. I believe you have some explaining to do."

* * *

A/N:

Okey Dokey, since it was my spring break, I left you all for roughly a week, and I am dreadfully, dreadfully, sorry. I would have updated every day, but even starving writers need breaks. I'm not quite starving, yet, thank god for my parents (you don't hear every teenager uttering that!) but in a couple of years I'll be released into the wild, and then, beware publishing world, anglachel is ready to wow you with her pathetic writing skills.

Now, enough of my ego trip, I need to thank and shout out to the people who keep me writing with their inspirational advice and support!

Kisses and Hugs to sumnox, because though you never review :( what else are best friends for?

Big kudos and highfives to all my loyal readers (i.e. N.Flora, Tacroy, sumnox, Bloduedd, and if I forgot you… I'm sorry)

Thank you's and love to all those who have recently joined the band in reading my junk, you make me feel so loved. Esp. those who review:

Samhaincat (are you wiccan? because if you are, so am I, and I'd love to talk to you about it), s.halliwell24, LilJuwan, PART-TIME SINNER, Spaced Out Space Cadet, Angelic Night Goddess, Catalysmic Silliness, Princess Kyra and all my anonymous reviewers, esp. fieryred20, Lila, and Angel.

If I forgot you… Very sorry. Just include a note in a review, and I'll include you in my next shout-out.

Love you all bunches,

your very confused buddy in lala land, who is going to go romp in the snow for the hols:

anglachel

email:


	8. Dumbledore's Office

Chapter 8

"Explaining?" Hermione said weakly. "Well, you see, Mr. Malfoy was just checking to make sure I was fine-"

Dumbledore chuckled slightly. "No, that's fine by me. But, you could tell me why you two were rushing around the school like madmen this evening?"

"I'll explain-" Hermione said.

Draco interrupted her abruptly. "No, I will. There's more to it than Hermione knows."

Dumbledore raised one white eyebrow. "That would be a first."

Draco smiled faintly, while Hermione blushed.

"How about you two sit down, and just explain what's going on," he said gently, motioning to two chairs. He muttered something and Fawkes' cage righted itself. The bird swooped over to its perch and watched them with interest.

Draco helped Hermione to her feet, and they both sat down. Hermione folded her hands in her lap and bit her lip. Draco took a deep breath and began.

"It all started before I was born. My father promised his children into the Dark Lord's service, so that the Dark Lord would have followers after his Death Eaters died. Well, the Dark Lord did not forget about this promise, and when he came out of hiding, he confronted my parents about their promise.

"So, they asked me to become a Death Eater. But first, they wanted me to kill a mud- I mean; they wanted me to kill a muggle-born. They had a specific one in mind."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat.

"It was Hermione Granger."

"I thought you were going to kill Dumbledore!" she exploded. "I was wrong again!"

He smiled. "Well, at first I thought I could do it. I mean; Hermione and I had never gotten along very well before. They said she was meddling and needed to be killed to teach Potter a lesson.

"But then I had the potions accident. And Hermione came to see me every day in the sick ward, and I couldn't help but not want to kill her. And then she told me she thought of me as a friend, and I realized that I did too.

"Then my father started sending letters pressuring me to take advantage of her kindness and…" He trailed off. "You know."

"Yes, we know, Draco," Professor Dumbledore said kindly. "Please continue."

"Well, I made myself sick to put it off as long as possible. It didn't really work, because my father showed up to yell at me. And, something happened.

"Hermione and Potter figured it out. My doppelganger was taken over by the Dark Lord to ensure that I would behave myself, and do what he wanted. My doppelganger is the thing that has been giving me these scars over the last year or so.

"I hid the scars with a spell I found in my father's mansion. But Hermione's spell destroyed the spells completely, leaving me looking like a torture victim.

"Anyway. Hermione found a spell that could destroy my doppelganger, and that was what we were doing this evening. Unfortunately, Hermione freaked out, and couldn't do it. The reason we're in your office is because she came up here to the place she figured she could get the most help."

He sighed in relief, as if he had gotten something terrible off of his shoulders.

Dumbledore stroked his beard and watched Draco with a silent understanding that Hermione could not comprehend.

"You seemed to have redeemed yourself rather admirably," the Headmaster said with a quiet smile, his hands making a temple, each finger touching.

"And you two seemed to have decided that friendship is wise," he continued, leaning forward to look at the both of them over the top of his glasses. "Now, Draco, I suggest you return to public life, and I'm sure that Madame Pomfrey will find something for those scars."

"Though, personally, scars can often become part of who you are. For example, Mr. Potter's scar, without that scar he would not be the same man. He probably would not have it removed. Maybe you will choose to keep them." His eyes twinkled.

"Besides, I'm sure that Hermione will attest that they make you rather dashing."

He stood slowly and smiled at them benevolently.

"Now, we must put all of this behind us. Mr. Malfoy, I will call you out of class sometime tomorrow to discuss your situation."

"Can Hermione come?" he asked, his voice wobbling slightly.

"Of course," he replied, smiling. "Now I'm sure that the two of you have much to talk about."

They walked down the phoenix staircase and out the door, past the grumpy gargoyle and out into the hallway. Being a Friday, everyone was still awake, and milling around.

"Let's go to the room of requirement," she whispered. "You go one way, I'll go the other."

He nodded, and they separated.

Hermione arrived a few seconds earlier than Draco. She stood outside the room, tapping her feet.

He ran up, slightly out of breath.

"I ran into Pansy Parkinson on the way here," he said with a grimace. "She can be such a harpy."

She opened the door, and pulled him inside.

The room was quiet. There were couches in the corner and a cozy fire going in the fireplace.

"We just need to talk," she said, sitting down on a beanbag chair. "Not about the doppelganger, or Voldemort, just about us."

He nodded, and sat down beside her on a bright pink beanbag chair. "I agree."

"We need to decide what we want out of the relationship-"

He interrupted her. "Hermione, you can't spell plan out relationships like you could a spell."

"But I want it to be perfect," she whispered, turning away from him, looking at her hands.

"Not everything is perfect," he said quietly, taking her hands in his. "I'm not perfect. You're pretty close, but even sometimes you're wrong."

"I know."

He smiled, and smoothed her hair back from her face. "Have I ever told you that you're beautiful?"

"Well until an hour ago I thought you hated my guts," she said with a wry smile. "I said a lot about you being hot, but you never said anything about me."

"Well I said it."

She grinned. "Well, then, kiss me."

"Wow, you sure jump into relationships head first, don't you," he said, slightly shocked by her impish smile.

"Fine then, if you don't want to…"

"It's not that I don't want to…. It's just that-"

"What, you're afraid of what your friends will think?" she said quietly. "I know. I'm a little afraid of what your friends will think as well."

"They're not really my friends," he said, running a hand through his pale hair. "They would like you if they were my friends."

"But apparently, their opinions matter a lot," she said matter-of-factly, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "I have to go now."

He grabbed her arm. "Don't go."

"I have homework to do."

"It's a Friday, for lord's sake, Hermione."

She watched him coldly, and then turned away. "Unlike you Draco, I have to have a career. I can't fall back on family money."

"Now I can't either."

She looked back at him. He was silent and still, watching her with such intensity it was frightening.

She reached up and traced one of his scars, her cold fingers sending a chill down his spine. "Draco, we'll have to decide where we stand in this relationship tomorrow. I don't want to argue with you anymore."

She walked out of the room, her shoes clicking down the hallway.

Draco buried his hands in his head and wondered what he was getting into. First off, Draco Malfoy, who was infamous for making girl swoon over him, was letting a girl, let alone a mud-blood, walk all over him.

He knew that he was making the wrong decision for the right reason for the first time in his life.

Fine, he reasoned. He'd let Hermione walk all over him. He'd just find a way to get her just as annoyed at him.

* * *

A/N: Well, that can't bode very well, can it... Well, I am at a loss for what's to happen next. Most certainly, this story is far from over, but what will happen next? Hmmm. I need to meditate upon this disturbing turn of events... Leave a review, especially if you hate this chapter or the last one. Thanxs!  



	9. Decisions

Chapter 9

Hermione woke up and stared out the window. The lake glittered in the fading night, and she remembered what had happened the night before. She shivered slightly. Things seemed so strange, now that she knew Draco liked her, and now that the doppelganger was vanquished, it seemed as if he was free. But freedom seemed so ambiguous to Hermione…

* * *

She rushed down to the Common Rooms, and found that Harry had stayed up all night working on his Transfiguration homework.

"You should have asked for help," Hermione said, stamping slightly. "Harry, you're a complete wreck."

Harry shook his head woozily. "Am not!" he protested, his words slurred and slipping around in his mouth like marbles. "I'm perfectly awake. Bloody awake!"

"Where's Ron?"

Harry furrowed his brow angrily. "Dunno!"

"What's going on between you and him?" Hermione asked, slightly alarmed. "Are you two fighting?"

"Of course not!" Harry snapped, and then drooped. "Fine, Ron and I got into a fight. A rather big one."

"About what?"

Harry looked up, his handsome face were an expression that can only described as guilty. "Well…"

"Spit it out, please."

"You and Draco."

Hermione shrugged, somehow she knew that something like this would have happened. "Let me guess, Ron doesn't approve of me being romantically entangled with Draco?"

"Actually," Harry looked uncomfortable. "I'm the one who doesn't approve. Ron thinks we should give him a chance."

Hermione let her jaw drop. "You? Harry?"

Harry looked up angrily. "Hermione, you can't just change with the drop of a hat, he's always going to be a Malfoy. You just can't erase blood."

"So is that the way you feel about it?" Hermione demanded, her heart breaking in two. "The only person I knew wouldn't judge me for loving who I do, the only person I could trust, turns on me. Don't you think that I could say the same thing about you and Ron? But, I don't, Harry. I love you, so I don't judge. But you'll judge who I love?"

Harry was furious. "I'm not judging him, Hermione! He's evil, pure and simple. There is no question about it, and I don't wanting you dating someone who's parents had a hand in killing my mother and father."

Hermione slapped him, the sound reverberating around the Commons room. Others looked up, surprised and shocked.

"You bastard," she hissed. "The world is not black and white Harry, no matter how much you want it to be, there are shades of grey. You just need to learn to see them."

Hermione stormed out of the Commons Room, skipping breakfast entirely, and heading out to the lakeside.

She was supposed to meet Draco at Professor Dumbledore's office right after breakfast, but she didn't want to see Draco right then.

She was angry, she couldn't help it, but why was she the one who ended up being embroiled in messes that couldn't be solved using books?

The lake was shining, and a tentacle poked up between a wave every few minutes.

Hermione sat down on the sand and watched the waves lap against the shore.

Presently, she heard footsteps, and she turned around to see Draco coming down, his dark cloak whipping around his feet, his pale hair fluffing slightly in the wind.

"Hey," he said quietly, sitting down next to her. "What's wrong?"

"Harry doesn't really approve," she said, sifting her fingers through the yellow sand. "He says that you'll always be a Malfoy."

Draco watched her sift the sand, his blue eyes focused on each grain passing through her pale fingers. "Well, he's right."

"But he meant it negatively," she said, with a faint smile. "As if it's bad for you to be who you are. He also partially blames your parents for his mum's and dad's death."

"If I were him, I would too," Draco said. "Don't get so mad at Harry. He only wants what's best for you."

"Don't get all patronizing on me," she muttered. "I can take care of myself."

"Then why do you like me?"

She stared at him fearlessly. "Why do I love you? How can I answer a question like that?"

"Try."

Hermione shook her head. "The fact that I love you should be enough. Why, even I can't explain that. It'd be easier if I didn't."

Draco turned his head, and stared out over the lake. "That's what I was thinking."

"What do you mean?"

"Hermione, I love you," he said, firmly, looking back at her. "But this relationship isn't going to work. My future doesn't look all that great, and I don't want you to suffer just for being with me."

"You don't think you're worth it?" she asked coolly. "Draco, I can't decide who I love. Neither can you."

"Hermione, your friends hate me, everyone hates me," Draco murmured, looking down at her. "I don't want to make them put up with me."

"I'll make them," she said fiercely. "Don't you understand, Draco? I was willing to die for you yesterday, you think I'd change my mind overnight?"

"No one will approve," he said.

She stood abruptly. "Then we won't tell them."

"Everyone is bound to find out," he said angrily, standing. She looked up at him, with a determination that was intimidating.

"True love has no bounds," she whispered. "I refuse to hold my love within everyone else's limits." She reached up and placed her palm on his cheek. He leant down to kiss her.

Her face rose to meet his, and as their lips brushed she wondered what she was doing. His mouth caressed hers and he hoped no one was watching.

They parted ways after a few minutes, her heading up to the Great Hall to eat, he to the dungeons to talk to his one adult confidant.

* * *

Professor Snape was cursing soundly why throwing something into his cauldron.

"Damn toad crap," he muttered crossly. "Goes all soft on me, just when I need it…"

"Hello Professor," Draco said calmly, watching the professor with faint amusement.

"No need to distract me," Snape hissed without turning around. "I already knew you were there, Draco."

"You know me well, Professor," Draco smirked with his usual bravado. "I needed to talk to you."

Snape threw the vial he was holding into the cauldron, glass and all. "What?"

"It's about He-" He stopped. "G-Granger."

"What about her?" Snape said, suddenly interested. His eyebrow rose, and it seemed as if he were examining Draco's very soul.

"Well," Draco said hesitantly. He was no longer sure if this was a good idea, but it was too late to leave. "It seems she likes me."

Snape laughed, a blue vein bulging from his pale neck. "That stupid girl! Just like a mud-blood…"

Draco laughed nervously, hoping to go along with a joke that he didn't quite understand. "Eh, very funny."

Snape smiled evilly, and Draco felt something very strange knotting up in his stomach. "You should play her along, as if you like her," Snape said, rubbing his hands together.

"That would be-!" Draco stopped himself. "Funny. Very funny. But no, I don't want to."

Snape straightened up suddenly as if he had been electrocuted. "Something's come over you Draco, and I'm not sure I like the change. What's troubling you, boy?"

"Nothing, nothing," Draco stammered. "I just don't feel like wasting my time on a mud-blood like Granger."

Snape did not relax as Draco hoped he would, instead, he remained suspicious. "Draco, don't lie to me. There's something wrong with you."

"I wish I could tell you Professor," Draco said solemnly. "But I really don't think that you would understand." Snape smiled, something that was both terrifying and beautiful in it's own right.

"There are many things about me that you don't know, Draco. You'd be surprised at what I would and would not understand."

Draco was silent for a moment. "Professor, what if you were in love with someone who was completely unsuitable and the exact opposite of everything you've ever been taught?"

Snape was silent for a moment. "Let me tell you a story about myself, and perhaps that will answer your question."

* * *

A/N: Yes, Snape has more to him that slimy greasy git we always imagined... There has to be some reason behind the madness... eh? Please review or email me! anglachel 


	10. Snape's Story

Chapter 10

Snape motioned for Draco sit, and proceeded to pace. Draco slowly sat, and stared up at the man whom he so admired.

"It all began my first year at Hogwarts. I was not a very well liked boy, I never have been. But, I fell in love with a girl. This girl was everything I was not: beautiful, popular, talented with a wand, and she had muggle blood.

"Her great grandmother had been a mud-blood. Since then her family had married into wizarding families who did not object to muggle blood. Anyhow, this girl was in Ravenclaw. She was beautiful, and everyone who knew her loved her. I was not the only boy who haunted her steps, her gazes, watching her with desperate desire.

"My fifth year, I worked up the courage to ask her out. I remember it clearly; she was standing on the steps, with her friends. I approached them, and asked if I could speak to her alone. Her friends laughed, but she smiled and asked them to leave. I asked her if she'd like to come with me to Hogsmeade that weekend. She was very polite, but said that she wanted to go with her friends. She said she'd be interested some other time.

"So, I went to Hogsmeade with my friends. We entered the Hog's Head, and guess who we saw? This girl whom I loved better than life, was sitting at a table with the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain. I hated her more than anything else right then, and I wanted to kill her. My friends restrained me, and she never even saw me enter.

"A few weeks later her Quidditch Captain came down with a debilitating rash that scarred his pretty skin. She didn't seem to mind however, and she married him a few years out of school. I haven't trusted mud-bloods since. They're all backstabbing trash," Snape spat furiously.

"I'm sorry Professor," Draco said truthfully. Snape looked at him scornfully.

"Draco, you've never been denied anything in your life," he said. "Don't you dare say you're sorry, you have no apathy. Nor do I desire your pity. I had my magic."

"Isn't love supposed to be one of the best things in the world," Draco said, watching Snape closely. "That's what my mother says."

"The only person your mother has loved is you," Snape said tiredly. "She knows nothing of love and loss. All she has ever known is Lucius, the man she has been promised to before her birth. Narcissa has never lived."

"Have you?" Draco asked.

Snape was quiet for a moment. Finally, he turned back to his cauldron, and as smoke billowed up towards his face, he answered.

"No."

* * *

Hermione hurried up to Dumbledore's office.

"Chocolate frogs," she said cheerfully. The door swung open and she raced up the stairs. Draco was already sitting at Dumbledore's desk, his back to her. She plopped down in the chair next to him.

"Sorry I'm late," she sighed. "I had to finish my jelly donut, or I would have been unhappy all day long." Draco was silent.

"Thank you for coming, Hermione," Dumbledore said, giving her a wink. "We appreciate it very much. But now, we must get down to business."

"Yes," Draco said resolutely, looking up determinedly.

"There are many choices for you to take. You will not be safe, unfortunately, in any other place under the protection of a fully trained and capable wizard who has had extensive dark magic experience," Dumbledore said carefully. "Your father will no doubt go to great lengths to get you back."

"He will," Draco murmured. "No doubt."  
"Well, there are a few families, or wizards I was thinking of. You could stay with Neville Longbottom and his grandmother. She owes me a favor. Both Professor McGonagall and Professor Binns have offered to take you for the summer. Also, Professor Snape has offered to care for you over the summers."

"I'll go with Professor Snape," Draco said immediately.

"The school has a certain amount of money set aside for special cases like yours, and it will be used-"

"I have money," Draco interrupted smoothly. "My parents did not control my cash flow. I had a large inheritance from my mother's parents."

"Good," Dumbledore said, looking at Draco over his glasses. "Now, Draco, I hope you will take this opportunity to get to know people without your previous judgments.'  
"Yes Professor," Draco said.

"You may both now go," Dumbledore said, waving them out the door. They both hurried out, spilling down the stairs, and out into the hallway.

"You can come with my family when we go on vacation," Hermione said cheerfully. "My dad always wanted a son."  
"Hermione, I don't want the charity," Draco said through clenched teeth. "I'm not some stupid little case you can take on and-"

"You stupid ass!" Hermione snapped. "It's not charity! I want you to come with us to France this summer. I'm not inviting you just because I feel sorry for you."

"Look, Granger," he hissed, rounding on her soundly. "I don't want to talk to you anymore. You're just a stupid mud-blood."

"Is that how you feel?" she yelled. "Fine then, just go and be stupid! I hate you!"

"I hate you too!" he yelled back.

"Fine then," she growled. "Be that way."

"I will," he replied, his voice low and menacing. She hit him solidly across the face, and stalked away, her hands shaking with anger.

* * *

Draco looked at his reddening cheek in the boy's bathroom mirror. The scars were white lines across his cheek, both ugly and disfiguring at the same time.

"Oh, god, what have I done?" he moaned, leaning over the sink. "How could I be so stupid?" His stomach suddenly lurched, and he rushed to the toilet and threw up noisily.

* * *

Hermione threw the pillow at the wall, and a few white feathers floated through the air. She got up and pressed her face into it, screaming at the top of her lungs.

"That stupid git!" she muttered once she had finished screaming. "And just after he had kissed me, and told me that he loved me!" She sat down on her bed, and wondered why she had ever fallen for his charming smile and devil-may-care attitude. She should have known that it would have never worked.

* * *

Hermione was doing her homework in the Commons Room when Harry and Ron came back from dinner. They were chatting loudly, and sat down on either side of her.

"I guess you two have resolved your conflict," she said calmly.

Harry looked sheepish. "I've decided that Ron is right. Draco has changed, he's not as bad as he used to be. And, you if you want to date him, I give you my blessing."

"Actually, Harry," Hermione said quietly, shifting her homework. Harry gave Ron a worried look. "You were right the first time."

"What do you mean?" Ron demanded. "You don't mean-?"

She nodded. Harry pulled her close and she let out a sob. As she cried, they simply looked at each other, hardly able to believe that what Harry had worried about for so long had finally come true.

* * *

Draco crept down to the dungeons, even though he knew it was passed curfew, because Snape usually left the dungeons sometime after twelve at night. Sure enough, Snape was leaning over a green smoke spewing cauldron, cursing as usual.

"What is it Draco?" Snape asked, without looking up. "This is the second time today you've come to bother me."

"Professor," Draco said nervously. "You know that I'll be staying with you over the summer?"

"Dumbledore told me at dinner."

"Professor, I have a question-"

"Is this about your muggle love?"

"Yes."

"She didn't come to dinner."

"Wha-?" Draco asked in disbelief.

Snape looked up from his cauldron, a disgusted expression on his ugly face. "You think I haven't guessed yet? Draco, you are a very smart boy, but sometimes you are terribly thick."

"She wasn't at dinner?"

"You weren't either," Snape said wryly, turning back to the cauldron. "I gather the both of you fought?"

"I called her a mud-blood."

"That didn't seem to endear her to you," Snape chuckled. "Try another name."

"It's not funny, Professor."

"When we're alone you can call me Severus, Draco."

"Severus," Draco said quietly. "I do love her. Even if she's a mud-blood, I can't help but love her."

"Draco, we can't help whom we love," Severus said; if it were possible, it seemed that he was musing. "It seems that the fates curse us to love those we should not."

"What should I do?"

Severus turned to his pupil seriously; his dark eyes reading more than met the eye. "Do what your heart tells you, Draco. You have one, don't you?"

"The thing is Professor, I'm not sure I do," Draco said solemnly. He turned and walked out of the room, knowing what he had to do.

* * *

Hermione was walking down the hallway alone that morning, wondering how on earth she was going to continue without falling over from exhaustion, when suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her.

"Hermione!" someone yelled behind her. She turned around to see Draco running toward her, a look that can only be described as elation on his handsome face.

"Go away Draco," she said shortly. "I don't want to talk to you."

"No, Hermione, please listen," he said, "This is terribly important to me, and I know what I said was wrong, I was just upset-"

"Draco," Hermione turned and glared at him. "Leave me alone. You come near me ever again and I will curse you so badly you won't be able to stand for a week. Get out of my life, and stay out!"

* * *

A/N: Well... Guess what happens next? I don't know either, we're all in the same boat! Okay, I'll figure it out, and everything will be fine... I think. I'll update tommorow, and thanks to everyone who reviewed, because you make my day. Please review if you haven't for this chapter, and and ideas in which direction this should go, you can email me about them.  



	11. Roses

Chapter 11

"Look, Hermione," Draco said, well aware that he was on the verge of tears and pleading. "After all we've been through together, I can't just let you walk away from me like this."

"Watch me," she said dangerously. She stalked off, fuming. He stared at her, realizing that his grand scheme had backfired miserably. Once again, he had underestimated Hermione Granger. He threw his book bag against the wall with a large thud, and wanted to scream.

"Need some help?" someone said wryly from behind him. He whirled around; wand stuck out, ready to curse Goyle to kingdom come, when he realized that it was Harry Potter.

"No, Potter," he spat. "I don't need your help."

"For someone who is trying to change their views," Harry said with a sarcastic smile, "You sure are reluctant to change." Draco glowered in Harry's general direction, but nodded anyway.

"I screwed up," he admitted. "But don't count on it happening again." Harry laughed.

"You're still the same bitter bastard," Harry said, running a hand through his messy hair. "But you need help."

* * *

"First off," Harry said in an undertone as they carefully climbed into the Quidditch bleachers. "Hermione is a total sucker for romantic stuff… Hermione also loves it when people admit they're wrong, very wrong, and beg for forgiveness."

"Malfoys don't beg!" Draco snapped. "We don't grovel either, if you were wondering."

"Are you a Malfoy still?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't answer that question."

"I'm so dead," Draco moaned. "How am I ever going to live any of this down?"

"If you marry her, you won't have to worry about that," Harry said mischievously. "But in the meantime, you better get used to apologizing."

"Who says we're going to get married?" Draco snapped, jumping up from the bench. "This is all getting way too serious!"

"You are such a flake, Malfoy," Harry said coldly, standing. "I can see why Hermione is so furious with you. You use people, shamelessly."

Draco buried his face in his hands again. "Look, Harry," he said, looking up. "I just denounced everything that I ever believed in, you could say I'm having some problems adjusting."

"You could say that again," Harry snapped sharply. "Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry that this has all happened to you. But it's all something you can work out, and you'll be better off this way. Don't let something like prejudices get in the way of true love."

* * *

Hermione chucked her scarf out the window, her anger getting the better of her, and immediately regretted it. She rushed to the window and watched it float down the sidewalk several stories below. She cursed loudly.

She threw up her hands, and walked away from the window. What had happened, had happened, and there was nothing she could do to change it, unless she ran all the way down the stairs and out the back door to get it… No, she was too tired.

* * *

"Hey, Hermione, you coming to Hogsmeade with us?" Ron asked cheerfully the next day as Hermione sat reading in the Commons Room.

"No thank you," she said.

"You should really come," Harry said, giving Ron a swift look. Ron returned the look, and seized Hermione by the arm.

"Hermione, you need to relax," Harry said soothingly. "Padma ran up to your room for us and grabbed your purse." He handed her the purse and smiled charmingly.

"I don't feel up to it," she explained, placing the purse on the couch beside her. "Thanks for the invitation, though."

"No," Ron said quickly. "Hermione, you really should come, it'll make you better. Harry and I will treat you to some ice-cream, eh?"

Hermione saw their pleading expressions, and sighed. "Fine, fine. If you really want me to."

* * *

Hermione ambled into Honeyduke's, her head hurting slightly from all the noise. Suddenly, she heard someone calling her name over all the other students' heads.

"Are you Miss Hermione Granger?" the shopkeeper yelled, motioning for her to come over. Bewildered, she hurried over to the counter, where the shopkeeper had pushed aside a bunch of overeager third years.

"Someone placed a special order for you," he yelled. The entire shop fell silent, and everyone watched her with huge eyes. "The order's to big to just hand it to you, so how about you come down and see it, and then we'll send it up to Hogwarts for you, eh?"

"S-Sure," she stammered. The shop was deathly silent, everyone watching her. He led her down the stairs into the cellar, and into a back room.

"Here you go, Miss," he said, motioning to a crate. "Go ahead and open it. It was specially ordered yesterday, rush delivery, just for you. Go on."

Hermione gently pulled open the huge box and gasped.

It was filled to the brim with red candy roses. The roses sparkled in their wrappers and she felt like crying with joy.

"Who ordered these for me?" she asked.

"Can't say," the shopkeeper said mysteriously. "I suspect you'll find out soon enough. Now, take one of those, and I'll reseal the box and send it up to Hogwarts for you, eh?"

Hermione slowly picked up the one on top and twirled it in the light. He sealed the box and they went back up the stairs. The hubbub in the store had returned, but it ceased as soon as Hermione resurfaced.

"What was it?" a third year begged, her little face alight with curiousity and a tinge of jealousy.

"It was a box full of candy roses," Hermione said, still in shock, showing the rose to the girl. "Do you want it?"

The girl shook her head. "You must deserve every single one," the girl said resolutely. The other third years nodded in their naïve little way, and hurried back to the counter to pay. She found Harry and Ron arguing over blood lollipops in the back corner, Ron clutching several cockroach clusters and a blister pop in one hand, and a giant roll of changing color chewing gum in the other hand.

"Was that from you two?" she demanded. Harry looked up innocently.

"What are you talking about?" he said. "I have no idea what you're talking about…"

"Someone left me a huge box of candy roses, my favorite candy, and you two know who it is, don't you," she said suspiciously. "You know, don't you Harry?"

Harry grinned. "Hermione, I have no idea what you're talking about. Now, let's go get some butter-beer."

They both paid for their goodies, and they headed out into the balmy weather. Hermione twirled the rose absent mindedly, trying to figure out who would have left her all that candy.

The trio entered the Three Broomsticks. As soon as Madame Rosmerta saw them, she rushed over and took Hermione by the arm.

"You three come on up, there's a private room for you all," she explained in her usual bossy way. "Now come on up!" Hermione looked at Harry and Ron in complete confusion before Madame Rosmerta dragged her up the stairs.

Harry and Ron followed dutifully, giggling quietly.

Rosmerta pushed Hermione onto a painfully soft cushion, and bustled off to get a tray of butter-beer.

"What is going on?" Hermione demanded. "You two have some explaining to do!"

"Someone else will do the explaining," Ron said smugly. "I have to go to the bathroom," he announced a little while later. "Come on Harry."

The two exited, and Hermione could hear them giggling as they rushed down the stairs. Presently, Rosmerta brought a tray of two butter-beers up.

"I think Ron and Harry would like one," Hermione said politely. Rosmerta winked at her.

"I don't think they'll need it," she said with a goofy grin and a mysterious air. "Nope, they'll be getting there's downstairs." Rosmerta exited without another word, leaving Hermione all alone.

"What on earth is going on?" she muttered to herself. "There is something going on here…"

"Rose?" someone asked quietly from behind her. Hermione shrieked and jumped a foot in the air. She turned around quickly to find Draco standing there, holding out a candy rose.

"Oh, no thank you," she said politely. "I have quite a few of those- Wait…"

Draco grinned.

"You ordered those roses!" she said, almost accusingly.

He nodded and smiled shyly. "Yeah, I did."

"Draco," she sighed, suddenly serious, and sat down. "I suppose you're trying to say you're sorry."

"Yes, Hermione." He sat down, facing her, still holding the rose. She gently took the rose from his long pale hands and smiled at him.

"You know, I'm so reluctant to forgive you this time. But you know me too well… You know what a dentist's daughter wants."

"Hermione," he sighed. "I owe you an ap-"

She held up her hand to his lips. "No, you don't. I understand." Draco took her hand.

"You understand me like no one ever has," he whispered. "And, like Harry said, I don't want to let prejudice stand in the way of true love."

"Do you really think this is true love?" Hermione asked.

He smiled, a little half smile that made her heart skip a beat. "What else could make me breathless just thinking of you? What else could make time stop and the world spin, save you?"

"Oh, Draco," Hermione murmured. "Why can't I ever learn?"

He grinned. "I'm just too charming."

She laughed, and like he said, time seemed to stop.

A/N: Well, it seems that everything is working out between Hermione and Draco despite a rocky start… but as we all know, something else is going to happen…

Leave a review to show you love me… Or don't love me. Either way is good.


	12. Death

Chapter 12

Draco woke up the next morning, clapped his hands together, ready to howl in happiness. Crabbe, who was getting dressed, gave him a funny look.

"What's wrong Draco?" he asked stupidly.

"Nothing, you idiot," Draco snapped. "Stop being so stupid, and by the way, you're putting your pants on wrong." Crabbe looked down to find that he was in fact putting both of his legs into one pant-leg.

"I was wondering why it didn't fit," he said with a dull expression. Draco rolled his eyes and hopped out of bed. He duly decided that nothing would ruin his good mood, not even Crabbe's apparent lack of intelligence.

* * *

Hermione skipped down the hallway toward the Great Hall. She and Draco had decided to pretend to still hate each other, it would make it easier than explaining to everyone how Draco had changed, and such.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, trying to catch up, pulling on his cloak as he went. "Ron has the flu, so it's just you and me today."

"You two spend so much time kissing that you probably have the same thing," Hermione said, slowing down. "The flu is contagious, you know."

"Of course, of course," Harry said with a slight shrug. "But I'm not sick now."

"Don't breath on me," Hermione said cheerfully. "I don't want to get sick now that life is getting better. Plus, testing is coming up, and I don't want to miss anything."

"Just like you Hermione," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. "The world could end tommorow, and you would still be worrying about tests."

"Well, no point in worrying about the world ending, especially if it's unavoidable."

"I don't understand you," Harry said sadly. "You confuse me beyond all belief."

* * *

Draco bounded down the stairs and into the Commons Room. Blaise Zabini rushed up, a look of disbelief on his handsome face.

"Are you okay, Draco?" he asked.

"Of course," Draco replied, his usual bravado returning with vengance. "What of it?"

"Nothing, nothing," Blaise stammered, still puzzled. "Let's go to breakfast, okay?"

"Fine," Draco said coolly, flicking his blond hair out of his eyes. "Let's go."

Draco couldn't remove the feeling of danger that began to settle in his lower stomach. It felt as if something were watching him, something malevolent and dark. A drop of sweat dropped down his back, but he remained calm. It wouldn't do to have a strop in front of Blaise, it would simply destroy his appearance as a tough Slytherin.

* * *

Hermione sat down next to Lavender Brown and helped herself to some pancakes. There was something wrong, her gut hurt fiercely.

"Harry," she said, turning to him.

"What?" he asked, his mouth full of porridge. He swallowed hastily. "Yes?"

"Something's wrong," she muttered under her breath so that only he could hear it. He nodded and looked around the hall quickly.

"Malfoy's not here," Harry said quietly. She looked over at the Slytherin table and found that he was right.

"What should I do?"

"See if he shows up," Harry said grimly. "And if he doesn't, we know what's wrong."

* * *

Draco turned around the corner with Blaise, who was still chattering cheerfully about some curse he'd read about recently, and Draco knew what was wrong.

His father was standing in the corner, an expression on his face that could be only described as treacherous.

"I'll see you at breakfast, Blaise," Draco said casually, walking toward his father. Blaise left, and Draco approached Lucius cautiously.

"I see you managed to lose the Dark Lord's minion," Lucius said coldly, anger under lying the frigid exterior. "You couldn't have done it without help."

"What are you doing here?" Draco muttered angrily. "You don't belong here."

"The Dark Lord is not pleased with you," Lucius continued, ignoring his son's statements. "He thinks you should be eliminated, or brought further under his control."

"I don't give a damn what the Dark Lord thinks," Draco hissed.

Lucius continued to ignore him. "The Dark Lord grows annoyed over your insubordination."

"Like I said, I don't give a damn what the Dark Lord says."

Lucius' eyes flamed. "Watch yourself, Draco. The Dark Lord knows all. He knows of your little affair with the mud-blood."

"She's not a mud-blood," Draco growled.

Lucius laughed cruelly. "How foolish you are, Draco. You will be destroyed if you keep up this stupid game any longer."

"I don't see this as a game," Draco said, straightening up. "And I don't care if I am destroyed."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "You have overstepped the boundaries, son. You will always be a Malfoy, you cannot lose your blood, no matter how much you want to."

"Yes I can," Draco said determinedly. "I refuse to be like you, I refuse to be a minion and puppet for my entire life."

Lucius raised his hand as if he would hit his son, but then looked as if he thought better of it. "What your tread, boy. I renounce you as my son."

"Good."

Suddenly Lucius had whipped out his wand. Draco groped for his wand. Lucius laughed and whispered the incantation.

* * *

Hermione dropped her fork and gasped.

"It's Mr. Malfoy!" she hissed to Harry. She leapt to her feet and raced out of the hallway. Professor Dumbledore watched her run out, and rose to his feet. He exited quickly, leaving the other teachers mystified.

Hermione rushed down the hallway, wand drawn. She reached the hallway too late. She saw the flash of green, and then she heard Draco hit the floor.

Mr. Malfoy Disappated, and Draco lay on the floor eagle-spread, his eyes wide open, mouth dropped as if in shock. She struggled not to scream as she threw herself at his side.

"Draco, Draco," she begged. "Please wake up!"

He did not stir. She pressed her shaking fingers to his clammy skin, feeling desperately for a pulse. There was none. She cradled him close to her and began to sob.

Presently she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"There's nothing you can do, Hermione," Professor Dumbledore said gently. "I'm very sorry."

Hermione dropped Draco's still warm body.

"No, you're wrong," she said calmly, standing. "If you please, Professor, can you write me a note so that I may read a book in the Restricted section of the library."

"Hermione, there is nothing that can be done," Dumbledore said. "But if you wish it, I will write you the pass." A quill flew out of his pocket and scribbled a note. The note flew into her hand.

Professor McGonagall rushed in.

"Oh my goodness!" she said, out of breath. "Albus, is he…?"

Dumbledore nodded, and Hermione ran away.

* * *

Hermione shoved the note at Madame Pince and ran into the Restricted section. She ran her finger along the spine of the books, up and down the shelf until she found what she was looking for.

It was a dark black book with silver lettering, and many of the yellowing pages were falling out. She took it down and gently opened. The book was so old that the writing was barely legible.

"Necromancy," she read aloud. "The Dark Art of the Dead." She closed her eyes and thought about what she was ready to do. Madame Pince walked up, her pinched face wearing a look of worry.

"Hermione," Madame Pince said nervously. "You shouldn't be dealing with magic like that, that's much too advanced."

"Madame Pince," Hermione said angrily. "I've preformed much harder magic than this. I think I can take it."

"Well, don't go meddling to far with the dead," Madame Pince said quietly, "You don't want to end up like Bellatrix Black."

Hermione nearly dropped her book. "What do you mean like Bellatrix Black?"

Madame Pince looked as if she had said something she wasn't supposed to say. She glanced around nervously.

"I don't know if I should tell you this, but if you're trying to do what you're trying to do…" she trailed off. "You'd better come back to my office and talk."


	13. Bellatrix Lestrange's Sordid Tale

Chapter 13

Madame Pince motioned for Hermione to sit in a red cushioned seat in the back office of the library.

"Bellatrix Black came from one of the most prominent, rich, pureblood families in the wizarding world. She had everything anyone could desire, talent, beauty, all the boyfriends one could ever want. She was a special favorite of You-Know-Who, for her amazing skills with a wand.

"Well, anyhow, Bellatrix fell in love with a certain man named Rodolphus Lestrange. Lestrange was handsome, debonair, rich, pureblood, and a ridiculously talented wizard. However, they both had a penchant for getting in trouble.

"When You-Know-Who came into power and began his reign of terror, the Lestranges got very wrapped up in it, both being pure-blood, and Bellatrix had been You-Know-Who's favorite pupil. Of course, the Aurors caught up with them, and in an intense battle, where many Aurors were killed, Rodolphus died.

"Now, you can imagine that this must have been a great dilemma for Bellatrix. Her true love had died, and she had managed to escape with his corpse.

"She turned to what you have turned to: Necromancy. She raised him from the dead: but with a terrible price. Rodolphus is practically immortal. She will wither and die, but he shall remain for close to eternity. There was another requirement that she had to pay to pull him back from behind the veil. She sold her soul to the devil."

"The devil?" Hermione scoffed. "There's no such thing as the devil, that's just religious nonsense."

Madame Pince looked at her over the top of her glasses. "The devil is just what we call pure evil. Bellatrix did not really "sell" her soul to the devil, she simply became purely evil. It is difficult to describe this phenomenon, for most who have practiced Necromancy are dead, or imprisoned for crimes against others. However, some sources tell of us of wizards who have escaped the horrors of the Necromancer's curse, but they are long dead."

"Is there any way to simply raise someone from the dead, without the side affect of immortal life, the possibility of me becoming evil?"

Madame Pince took the book and flipped through the yellowing pages. The book fell open to a page and she ran a long fingernail down the parchment.

"Ah, here we go, the spell of raising from the dead. The book even states how to avoid becoming a 'Venificus Malus.'"

"Evil wizard?" Hermione ventured uncertainly.

"Yes," Madame Pince said with a nod of her wizened head. "Indeed. But, Hermione, if you insist on proceeding with this spell, it is more dangerous than you can possibly imagine."

"I know," Hermione said solemnly. "But what could happen that's worse than death?"

Madame Pince looked at her over her glasses again. "A great many things are worse than death, Hermione. You of all people should know that."

* * *

Hermione hurried to the infirmary, where they had laid the corpse. She remembered all of her bitter conversations with Draco and marveled that now she was wiling to go into the depths of death to save him. She found his body wrapped in a sheet in the corner, lying stiffly on the bed. She gently pulled back the sheet, and saw that someone had smoothed out his handsome face, so it was no longer in such a terrified expression.

"Draco," she murmured softly, kissing him gently on the forehead. "Why did this have to happen?" She pulled the book out from her bag, and opened it up to the page. She took a deep breath and placed it on the bedside table.

"Redeo Vita," she whispered, holding her wand over his body. Suddenly, she jerked forward, and her eyes rolled up into her head. She dropped her wand and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Dumbledore stepped from the shadows, a tired, unhappy expression on his worn and old face. He leaned over and felt her pulse. Her heart had stopped beating, and the blood was rapidly leaving her face, leaving her very pale. He cast a spell and her body floated onto a bed. He watched her with weary eyes.

"And so it begins," he murmured to himself, "I just hope she gets out of this one."

* * *

Hermione felt herself being tugged through something, and she opened her eyes, and found herself on the edge of a river. The river was pitch black and rough. It undulated dangerously, and she stepped away from the water.

Someone coughed loudly. She looked up to find an old man in a boat standing, holding out his hand as if he were demanding something.

"Pardon?" she asked.

He motioned to his mouth, and opened it. She opened her mouth, and then realized there was something under her tongue. She reached into her mouth and pulled out a gold coin. The old man snatched the coin from her, and pulled her into the boat.

"Where are we going?" she asked. He pointed to the other side of the river, which seemed very distant and far away.

He stuck his pole into the water, and pulled them off the bank. Hermione stared down into the water and realized that it appeared as if there was fire within the gentle lapping waves. Then her mythology caught up with her.

"Is this the River of Styx?" she asked the boatsman. He nodded. "Are you Charon?" He nodded again. Presently, they reached the opposite shore, and Hermione climbed out. He vanished as soon as he had come, and Hermione set into the darkness beyond.

Presently after walking for a while straight into darkness she realized that there was a light flickering in the distance. She hurried to the light, and realized that it was a candle, hovering over a Gate. She reached the doorway, and was about to head through it, when she realized that there was more than one portal.

In fact, there were ten. They went in a circle, a candle hanging over each Gate. She wondered why she hadn't seen these candles or Gates before. There were strange symbols carved on the edges. She recognized an ankh on one Gate, a pentagram on another, but the rest were a mystery to her.

"Oh, Draco," she whispered. "Where do I go?" Suddenly something heavy weighed down her pocket and she reached in to find the Necromancy book. She flipped it open, and found a drawing of the Gates.

But there were no descriptions of what Gate she should take. She worriedly poured over the words surrounding the drawings. Finally, she closed her eyes and chose a Gate.

* * *

She had chosen the sun Gate. She went to the Gate and reached for the handle. Her hand closed around the knob, and she nearly pulled away when she realized how could it was. The brass was frigid, as if it had been submersed in Artic water.

Then she realized how cold the room was. She could see her breath, and goose-bumps were rising on her arms. She turned the handle and stepped into darkness.

A gust of hot dry wind greeted her and she opened her eyes. She was in the middle of the desert, on top of a dune, with sand running across her skin.

"Hello?" she called uncertainly.

Her words came bouncing back at her. She was about to go back through the door, when someone called her name.

"Hermione," they whispered kindly. "Welcome to the desert, are you going to stay?"  
"I'm looking for someone," she explained, looking around for her greeter. "Someone who's dead."

"Well, looking for someone who's living would be a waste of your time, eh?" they laughed dryly. "This is the underworld, after all."

"I was led over here by Charon, but where's Cerberus?" she asked. The voice rasped in laughter.

"You'll just have to look through all the doors, won't you?"

"I don't have time, though," Hermione said impatiently, stamping her foot. "He's already been dead for two hours, two hours more and I won't be able to find him. Is he here?"

"Who?"

"Draco, Draco Malfoy."

"There is no Draco Malfoy who died recently behind this door, check the others. Come back to visit, Hermione."

"I will," she promised. She opened the Gate, and nearly died of shock. The room of portals was so cold compared to the sun portal…

She moved to open the next door over, this time the door knob was silver. It was the moon Gate. She opened the door and stepped into darkness.

* * *

A/N: Okay, everyone leave a review, please!  



	14. Hades' Gate

Chapter 14

A great cold swept over Hermione and she felt as if she had been submersed under freezing water. She felt her blood slow down, creeping along as if something terrible had just happened.

"Hello?" she called into the immense blackness that surrounded her. "Who's there?"

"Who disturbs my slumber?" a musical voice floated through the air like a seed borne by the winds of time, as if something magical was stirring from the depths of the inky dark. Hermione could almost see a faint light ahead, but she dared not step forward.

"Hermione Granger," she answered through chattering teeth. "I am looking for someone named-"

"Whom you seek is not here," the moon replied calmly, her pale face suddenly looming from the black. "He has gone on."

"Gone on where?" Hermione asked, an icy pit forming at the bottom of her stomach. This could not bode well.

"To the Other World," the moon replied, the whiteness of her almost blinding Hermione. "He has moved on."

"What's the Other World?" Hermione asked, suddenly desperate, reaching out to the moon, who was turning her wan face away to once again sulk in the dark. "What's the Other World?"

"Behind the black Gate," the moon said ominously. "Behind the door with no future."

Hermione stumbled back out into the hallway and the room felt almost warm compared to the moon's icy lair. She looked at the other Gates, each one shining at her as if they held Draco's soul, but what was the Gate with no future?

Finally, her dark eyes fell upon the blank Gate. The Gate was black, with no inscriptions, and a plain brass handle. It glowered ominously in the corner, as if someone had added it on as an extra precaution.

"Draco," she whispered, biting her lip, knowing that her precious time was evaporating quickly. "What do I do?"

No one answered, and she knew that her only hope of finding out was to do what the moon had told her. She reached for the brass handle, and stopped when her fingers barely brushed the metal.

She heard a whisper. A tiny whisper emanated from the door, an enticing little giggle that made her still.

"What is that you want?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. But she knew there was no time for hesitation, and that if she wanted to save Draco, her only chance was now. He would slip farther and farther into death, leaving her with only the empty shell of his soul.

She took a deep breath, seized the handle, and pulled.

* * *

She once again stepped into darkness, but this darkness was not the refreshing renewing of the moon, it was the malignant stagnant dark that lingers after someone has died. A rank smell wafted through the air, reminding Hermione of something familiar… It was not evil, but it was not safe… Suddenly, a flash of light came from the darkness, and she ran toward it, her feet clumsy and ill prepared for the rocky terrain beneath her. The light was a flickering candle that floated near a sign. The sign was old, battered and cracked, and the words barely visible peaked from the white and black chipped paint,

_Welcome to the Other World, more commonly known as the Land of the Dead. Hades and the Furies welcome you to their lair, and bid you stand before his throne to receive judgment._

Beneath the words was a black and red arrow pointing right, into more darkness. Hermione reeled back, upon rereading the announcement. Hades? The Greek God of the Underworld suddenly seemed very real.

Hermione determinedly stepped out into the darkness, going right, as the arrow had pointed, hoping desperately that there weren't any hidden traps or poisonous snakes in her general vicinity. She really didn't want to have to get anti-venom out of the back pocket of her worn jeans.

"Ooof!" Hermione grunted, tripping over an abnormally large rock. She knelt down to massage her toe when someone tapped her on the shoulder imperiously.

She looked up, and gasped.

She was in a throne room of sorts, and next to her was a winged Fury, one of the three sisters who were cursed to forever haunt the world looking for sinners who committed terrible crimes. She stood up quickly and looked around.

At the head of the room were two throne, upon which a pale dark haired man with sunken eyes and hollow cheekbones sat, a crown perched upon his head, and next to him, a beautiful woman with wan skin and dark eyes that watched Hermione with an intensity that was frightening as well as dangerous, her tiara sitting upon her head as well.

"Why have you come here mortal?" the Fury hissed, her ugly face contorted in confusion or disgust, which, Hermione was uncertain.

"I have come seeking a wrongfully dead soul," Hermione answered, willing the fear to leave her voice. Draco would not be scared if he were in her shoes.

"There are many of those," the man on the throne boomed imperiously, his crown tilted at an impossibly steep angle. "As Lord of the Underworld, I see many of these souls. Which do you seek?"

"I seek a wizard-"

"No, Merlin cannot leave," Hades said with a dismissive flick of his hand. "He is too important."

"No, not Merlin," Hermione replied hastily. "Although I am sure he is enjoying the Elysian Fields. I am looking for a certain Draco Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" the Fury asked, suddenly interested. She had been yawning and making faces previously.

"Draco."

The Fury once again made a face. "Oh, I thought you meant Varica Malfoy, now he was an interesting man…"

Hermione shuddered, instantly recognizing the name as one of the wizarding worlds most evil wizards, save Slytherin and Voldemort. He had completely annihilated hundreds of medieval muggles before being apprehended and put to death.

"Why do you want this wizard?" Hades asked, stroking his chin, and completely ignoring the Fury. He found Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone completely disgusting and utterly pointless.

Hermione looked up into the cold red eyes of the Lord of the Underworld, and found no mercy in them. She simply smiled, and when she answered, she knew that even if he did not let Draco go, she would always see him in the after life.

"True love," she replied, with a slight shrug. "Why else would I venture into a place where only the dead wander, but for someone who deserves to live."

Persephone sat up, her eyes blazing, pulling at her husband's silky sleeve. She said nothing, but simply stared, her eyes speaking what her heart wanted. Hermione saw none of this; she was wondering how she could convince them that Draco was redeemed.

Persephone cleared her throat, and spoke.

"Hermione, how did this boy die?"

Hermione willed the tears away, and explained.

Persephone once again turned to her husband and tugged at his sleeve. It is strange that Hades loved his wife so, especially since he commanded the dead, and was renowned for his cruel temperament, but he could deny the beautiful Persephone nothing.

"Fine," he muttered to his wife. "She can have him."

"What?" Hermione asked the Fury under her breath. "What just happened?"

The Fury growled in frustration, clearly shocked by her master's magnanimous gesture. "He says you can have him."

* * *

A/N: Just a note about Greek Mythology, Hades is the King of the Underworld, Persephone is his queen. The Elysian Fields is where all the heroes and good people go, Tartarus is where the bad people go to be tortured until the end of time. I decided not to use the Tartarus concept in this story because it seemed a little unnecessary, and plus, I liked the idea of the doors. anglachel 


	15. Hades' Condition

Chapter 15

"What price must I pay?" Hermione asked finally, remembering Madame Pince's story about the Lestrange couple. Hades leaned over, and looked her straight in the eye, and she imagined that they were no longer cold, but full of the fires of hell.

"You must devote your life to the dark magic of Necromancy, and discover its secrets and share it with your wizarding world." Hermione shuddered; Hades had wisely given her a nightmare of a task. She supposed that there is always a price to pay for what you desire most.

Persephone spoke, her ethereal voice slid through the dark stagnant air, "Do you choose this path, Hermione Granger?"

Hermione raised her chin, and took a deep breath.

"Yes," she replied firmly, knowing that she had doomed herself to a life of darkness and danger.

"So it shall be," Hades said finally, turning to the Fury. "Bring out the shade of Draco Malfoy."

The Fury slunk away leaving Hermione alone. She closed her eyes and wanted to cry, but consoled herself saying that, despite all this, she would have Draco.

The Fury escorted Draco's soul from wherever he had rested in limbo. Hermione opened her eyes and found herself looking into the intense blue eyes of the ghost of Draco Malfoy.

"Draco?"

"Hermione?" he whispered, his eyes wide. "What have you done?" She shrugged with a faint smile, turning back to Hades.

"May we leave, your majesty?" she asked. He made a dismissive gesture with his pale hand, his mind already on more important things, such as torturing that new soul that had recently arrived… However, Persephone's eyes remained fixed on the reunited couple.

"What have you done?" Draco asked again, his voice choked as they left the dank hall of death. "You've gone and thrown your life away, for me?"

"I haven't thrown it away," Hermione replied, allowing a slight edge of anger enter her voice. "You're worth the price, Draco. Necromancy isn't all that bad."

"Don't you understand?" Draco begged, grabbing her hand. She stopped and looked back at him. "He'll have hold over you for the rest of eternity."

"That's the price I'll pay," she said coolly. "And don't you dare say that you'd rather be dead, or something stupid like that. You're worth it Draco, and don't you dare-"

He pulled him close to her, and looked down at her.

"Draco," she said with a slight snicker. "This is rather uncomfortable, especially since you're a ghost." He swore and let her go, looking down at himself.

"I look like a prat," he snarled. "I'm all white, or something!"

"We'd better get back up the real world, eh?" she laughed, taking his hand. He nodded furiously, and they ran toward the Gate.

* * *

Hermione pushed the Gate open and they spilt out into the hallway.

"Was it hard getting down here?" Draco asked as she looked for the River.

Hermione made a face, remembering the darkness that she had to wander through. "No, actually, it wasn't all that hard." She frowned, and reached into her pocket, pulling out the box. She flipped it open to the page she had marked, and found the pictures of the Gates.

"It says that to cross the River again, we must have some sort of payment," she said, heading away from the doors, and farther into the black.

She stumbled over a rock and nearly tripped. "The river's over here somewhere, do you remember?"

"No," he replied tersely, looking around, clearly slightly panicked. "Something's wrong, Hermione, but I just can't place my finger on it."

"Nothing's wrong," she replied flippantly, holding the book up in the dim light. "Ah, look here it says-"

"Run Hermione!" Draco shouted, pushing her toward the unpenetrable night. "It's the Furies!" Hermione shut the book and shoved it into her pocket, drawing her wand, as they scrambled toward the river.

"Why are they following us?" Hermione panted, grabbing Draco's cold chilling hand. "I thought we were allowed to go!"

"The book!" Draco replied through short breaths. "The book, look at the book!" Hermione drew it from her pocket, and she could hear the screeches of Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone, their evil cackles filling her ears. She held the book in front of her, and realized what was on the cover.

A picture of the Gates adorned with gold, and between the doors the Furies faces poked out, their evil features beset with hatred, and at the foot of the Gates knelt a handsome boy... She recognized him instantly, but was reluctant to believe what she saw. She opened the book to the first page, and the silver writing glowed in the faint light, as if some dark monster was shining through.

"What does it say?" he asked roughly, the wing-beats growing in the distance. "What does it say?"

"It says…" she trailed off unhappily. "Property of Tom Riddle."

"The Dark Lord!" Draco exclaimed in horror. "That's how he reformed his body! He's a necromancer, and the Furies-"

"His servants!" Hermione finished his sentence. "That means-"

"The Dark Lord knows I have risen from Hades' depths, and that, we have the book that is the key to his power," he said grimly, pulling on her with increased urgency. "And he wants the book back."

"Draco, what do we do?" Hermione said under her breath, her side hurting. "I don't have a fare to cross the River again."

"You can swim, can't you?" he asked with a wry smile. "Well, that's what we're going to do."

"We can't do that, Draco," Hermione snapped. "The River Styx is thought to be made of fire, we could die!"

"Didn't you think that you could die when you ventured into Hades to bring me back from the dead?" Draco said. "I had rather hoped you had thought of this before hand."

"Well, I didn't have much time," she said. "You had been dead to long as was, I couldn't really risk spending more time reading the book."

Draco, who was rather calm about the situation, took a deep breath and spoke.

"Well, if we die." He clenched her hand with such frightening fervor, that Hermione felt her hand constrict. "If we die, at least no one will be able to separate us ever. And, you won't have to honor you promise to Hades."


	16. Persephone's Help

Chapter 16

Hermione stumbled and Draco managed to catch her elbow and prevent her from falling. A chill ran through her when his ethereal hand touched her flesh, and she shivered slightly, but kept running.

Then, the River Styx loomed from the darkness; it's gentle fiery waves lapping against the stony shore of the underworld.

"Look Draco," she said, pointing to the River. "It's made of fire we will surely die if we cross!"

"And we will surely die if we do not," he replied swiftly, grabbing her hand again. "Do we have a choice?"

"There's always a choice, Draco," Hermione argued, well aware that the Furies were almost upon them, eager to drag them to Voldemort, and who knows what.

"Not this time," Draco replied angrily, dragging her onto the beach. "Don't balk Hermione."

"But-"

"Just get in!" he said roughly, dragging her into the water.

At first she was alarmed at how cool it was, but as they began to swim, she began to feel a prickling sensation across her skin. Her shoes began to fill with water and she kicked them off so she could swim better. The prickling turned to burning and increased a ten fold.

"Draco," she screamed, "Can't you feel it?"

"I've felt the fires of hell, Hermione," Draco replied crossly. "This is nothing." She dunked her head underwater, and opened her eyes. The water was greener and murky, but at the bottom of the River blue and white flames gently waved, occasionally blocked by strands of seaweed. She gasped for breath, and turned over her shoulder. Alecto, Megaera, and Tisiphone were flapping on the other side of the River, cursing them soundly. The burning had stopped increasing, and was now a dull ache. Finally, she felt her feet touch ground, and she hauled herself out onto the beach.

"Hermione," Draco ordered, grabbing her under the arm. "Get up! The Furies are coming!"

"What?" she gasped, struggling to her feet. "I thought they couldn't cross the river!"

"I guess we were wrong," Draco said worriedly, pulling on her more. "Let's go, hurry!"

As they straggled quickly up the hill, panting as they went. The Furies were getting closer. Hermione swiftly pulled out her wand, and opened the book.

"Oh no!" she cried in horror. "The water ruined the book! The ink has run, and I can't read the incantation!"

"You can't?"

"It's completely obscured!"

"What do we do?" Draco asked, glancing around, noticing that the Furies had reached the shore, and would be upon them within moments. Hermione had realized this as well, and she shivered, wondering how the Dark Lord would deal with them.

"Nothing, there's nothing we can do," she whispered. "It's hopeless." He took her hands in his cold ones and stared down at her.

"Hermione," he said brokenly. "I love you."

"I love you too Draco," she replied, wrapping her arms around him and placing her head against his chest. She closed her eyes and waited for Furies to come down upon them. She was ready for the pain that would surely accompany the winged demons.

But nothing happened. She ventured to open her eyes slowly. Queen Persephone was standing before them, a sorrowful smile on her beautiful face. She held a wand in her hand, and Hermione looked to see the Furies frozen in mid air.

"Your majesty," she gasped, releasing Draco and falling to her knees. "Thank you-"

"Thanks are not needed, Hermione," Persephone said kindly, motioning for her to stand. "We shall be seeing much of each other in the coming years."

"I didn't know you were a witch," Draco said, confused. He scratched his head. She smiled benevolently.

"I am the patron Goddess of dark magic," Persephone explained, sliding her wand into her pocket.

"Then, aren't you in league with You-Know-Who?" Draco asked.

Persephone shook her head. "Riddle has ventured beyond the Gate of Death and Misery, and I can no longer help him. He is beyond any God's control, and his fate is not in my hands. Hades must accept the monster he has created, and my husband cannot decide what will happen to the Mortal."

"So the Gods are powerless in this situation?" Hermione asked, fearing that her answer would be yes.

Persephone nodded. "All the Gods of every religion, the Christian God, the Goddess, Buddha, the Mohammed, we are all unable to stop this monstrosity that Hades has nurtured."

"But as Queen of Hell, aren't you supposed to support everything evil?" Draco asked impertinently.

"No," Persephone replied. "The Light and Dark must remain in balance, and Riddle has upset the balance. There is too much darkness, and he knew that his actions would destroy the gentle precipice upon which the balance rests. He chose his path with the help of Hades and his magic."

"So, in a way, your husband is to blame for all the death in our world?" Hermione asked quietly. "He did not seem reckless with life."

"There are two kinds of Dark in these worlds. There is the Dark of Riddle, which is destroying and evil. And there is the Dark of my husband and the moon. Which is not evil, it simply exists. It does no harm, and like the moon, lights the way for us when we are lost."

"You did not answer my question," Hermione prodded gently. Persephone smiled.

"Yes, my husband is to blame, but he knew not that Riddle would be such a dominant force. My husband is rather arrogant, and he thought he could control this Frankenstein's monster he had created."

"Frankenstein's monster?" Draco asked, clearly still befuddled.

"I'll tell you when we get back," Hermione said under her breath. He nodded, relieved that everything would be cleared up.

"But, you must leave," Persephone continued. "For my spell can only last so long on the Furies, and you must return to your lives. Hermione, I trust I shall be seeing you shortly."

Hermione nodded, and opened her mouth to ask a question.

"Oh," Persephone said, noticing the book with satisfaction. "You have found the book. I shall warn you, Hermione, the book is intertwined with the Furies, the moment they hear it's call; they shall come. And have faith, the next time you get it wet in the River Styx, the fire at the bottom of the River shall fix any problems." Before Hermione could ask her what she meant, the Queen of the Underworld had vanished in a puff of smoke.

"Look Hermione!" Draco said excitedly, pointing at the book in her hand. Hermione looked down to see that it had completely dried.

"So that's what she meant by the fire fixing any problems, and look at us, Draco!" she said excitedly. "We're dry as well!" And indeed they were, for the River Styx was made of fire and water, a most interesting combination.

"Let's go home," he said gently, flipping the book open. She skimmed the page and found the incantation.

"_Redemus vita_!" she said clearly, and they vanished in a flash.

* * *

A/N: Please review everyone! Oh, and if you notice any problems with the latin that is scattered throughout this story, please tell me, because I've only been studying it for a year, and I'd be happy to fix any mistakes. anglachel 


	17. Return from the Underworld

Chapter 17

Hermione raised her head and groaned. Where was she? Then everything came back in a flash, and her head began to ache. She slowly got to her feet, and realized that Draco was waking as well.

"God," he moaned. "I feel as if someone has hit me over the head with a cauldron."

"A minor side-effect," someone called from somewhere in the infirmary. "I assure you. The consequences of your actions, Ms. Granger, could have been far worse."

Hermione spun around to find Professor Dumbledore seated on a rickety brown chair in the corner, looking at her amusedly over the top of his half-moon glasses.

"Professor!" Hermione gasped. "What? How did you know?"

"Whenever a witch or wizard performs Necromancy, Hermione," Dumbledore explained patiently. "They die. Their soul leaves their body. When they return, their body has not had blood flow for some time, so it is painful to come back."

"So, I can really say I've gone to hell and back now," Draco said mischievously, though he was obviously in a great deal of pain. "And I wouldn't be lying."

"Unfortunately, Draco," Dumbledore said, suddenly solemn. "Ms. Granger's actions could have created serious problems for the both of you. Persephone is known for being kind to lovers seeking their partner, but Hades is not so compassionate. What if you had caught him on a bad day? No amount of Persephone's pleading could have released you, or Mr. Malfoy, from his grasp."

"I understand, Professor," Hermione replied quietly. "I wouldn't have done it without realizing the potential danger."

"Well, remember two galleons for Charon next time," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye, and then he walked out, humming slightly under his breath.

"How did he know?" Draco asked.

* * *

Hermione collapsed in her head, and wondered if it had been a dream. She knew that she had been asleep for some time, and she certainly felt as if she had been dead. She looked down at her feet, and realized, that her shoes were gone. Where were they, she wondered to herself.

Oh, right, she remembered. They were at the bottom of the River of Styx. She wasn't sure she was going to be able to explain this to her parents.

* * *

Draco was undressing that night to get ready for bed. His joints ached, his feet felt swollen. Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He was about to pull on his nightshirt, when he realized that he had a funny scar on his stomach. He fingered it for a moment, trying to remember where he had gotten this strange scar in the shape of a snake. Then he remembered.

His father had pointed his wand at his stomach and said in a mocking tone, "Avada Kedavra."

* * *

Hermione skipped into the Commons Room, and found Harry and Ron hunched over their Divination homework.

"No, you're wrong," Ron said loudly. "The heart means true love, can't you see, you stupid ass."

"But when we used the Tarot cards, the question was about us, not Hermione and Draco, and the Lovers card showed up in the final outcome slot!" Harry replied tiredly. "Stop being so stupid and let me snog you."

"No, Harry," Ron said, though he looked sorely tempted. "Hermione will be coming down any minute-"

"Ahem." Hermione cleared her throat quietly, and they both jumped a foot in the air.

"She's already here," Harry said wryly.

"What are you two doing?" she asked, leaning over to look at what they were doing. Harry evasively slid it under him, and Ron deftly pushed the book under the couch.

"Nothing," they answered simultaneously.

She shrugged. "Guess what?" she said.

"What?"

"I died yesterday."

* * *

"So, you died yesterday?" Harry asked slowly, "and you and Draco came back from the dead around dinner time last night."

"Yes."

"Well…" Ron said with a tinge of doubt. "It sounds a bit preposterous Herm." He paused, seeing her expression. "But I'm sure it's possible."

"No, we already know its possible," Harry said thoughtfully. "But why Persephone allowed them to pass is beyond me."

"Didn't Dumbledore say once that it's impossible to bring someone back from the dead?" Ron asked loudly.

"Well, Draco wasn't all that dead," Hermione explained. "He was only forty-five minutes dead."  
"So, I guess that means you can't bring Sirius back," Harry said glumly. "I was hoping that…."

"We know what you were hoping Harry," Hermione said gently, stroking his hair back from his eyes. "I'm sure he's in the Elysian Fields with your Dad and Mum."

"I guess I'll see him when I die," Harry said, trying to be cheerful, but failing miserably.

* * *

Hermione took her usual spot in Transfiguration next to Neville, and was taking out her book when Draco walked in with his Slytherin cronies. His eyes passed over her, and she thought she saw a glimmer of a smile, but it disappeared as quickly as it had come, and he glowered impressively in her direction.

Poor Professor McGonagall stifled a shriek when she walked into class and saw Draco Malfoy talking and breathing normally. She regained her calm with a blink of an eye, and without any explanation, launched into the lesson. Hermione could tell that the poor Assistant Headmaster was in shock.

"Hermione," Professor McGonagall said after class had ended. "May I have a word with you?"

Hermione shoved her many books into her already bursting bag and headed over to the Professor's desk. McGonagall had put away all of her materials and was sitting very rigidly as she always did, her hands folded neatly.

"I do hope you can explain Mr. Malfoy's recent reappearance," McGonagall said primly after the other students had filed out.

"I did a bit of illegal magic, Professor," Hermione said guiltily.

"What did you do?"

"Necromancy."

McGonagall shut her eyes, as if warding off evil. "And you and Draco survived this ordeal?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Does the Headmaster know of this?"

"He does, but not the whole story."

Professor McGonagall sighed and rubbed her temples. "Tomorrow you must tell him everything, and you had best not tell anyone about this. Necromancy is not something to be trifled with, and I am amazed that a witch of your age managed it. We do not want other students meddling with such an advanced section of magic, and it is remarkable that you have come through your ordeal unscathed."

"Not completely unscathed," Hermione said, remembering the harrowing flight from the Furies, the burning swim through the River Styx. "Hades made me promise I would perform further investigations on Necromancy, and that I would report my findings to the Ministry."

McGonagall shuddered, her lips pursed. "Hermione, I had hoped you would have a successful career of some sort, because of your talents and dreams. But, it seems that the God of the Underworld has other plans for you."

* * *

A/N: Please leave a review! 


	18. Return to Dumbledore's Office

Chapter 18

Hermione met Draco at the foot of the stairs that led up to Dumbledore's office. She was taciturn, as was he, for they were both still in a great deal of shock over the last two day's events.

Finally, Draco spoke as they walked up the steep steps.

"I wanted to say thank-you," he said quietly, shifting his books from one side to the other. "No one else would have ever done that for me. Not even my mother."

"Don't worry about it," Hermione replied dismissively. "You would do the same thing for me, wouldn't you?"

He shrugged. "I don't know."

She was troubled by this, but said nothing, and when they reached the top of the stairs she muttered to the gargoyle,

"Chocolate frogs," and the door swung open.

They proceeded up the steps to Dumbledore's office, like they had not three days ago after the incident with the Doppelganger, only it felt like weeks had passed and they hadn't seen Dumbledore in ages. They found the Headmaster pacing in his study, stroking his beard absentmindedly.

"Hello Professor," Draco said politely, putting his book bag down on the floor. Dumbledore looked up and smiled; making Hermione's cares and worries melt away.

"Do sit down," he said kindly, motioning to two very comfortable looking chairs in front of his desk. "Now, Professor McGonagall insisted I see you two, and hear the story from your own mouths."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said politely. "I'll start."

* * *

She proceeded to tell the tale, and when she was finished, even Draco looked slightly amazed.

"You have indentured yourself to the Lady of the Underworld?" Dumbledore asked with wary fascination. "I wonder how that will work out? And the Furies are under the power of Voldemort?"

Draco started hearing the name, but then remembered that it was Dumbledore speaking, and that he had no reason to be afraid of the Dark Lord when within Hogwart's grounds.

"Yes, Professor," Hermione said, noting Draco's consternation. "I suppose I shall be pursuing a career in brining people back from the dead."

Dumbledore frowned, his furry white eyebrows colliding. "No, Hermione. The dead should not be stirred. I did not attempt to dissuade you from your decisions to bring Mr. Malfoy back, because I knew that it was useless. The dead keep their own, Ms. Granger. Do not disturb what nature has deemed. For all we know, Mr. Malfoy could have some strange abnormality that might surface later. It is dangerous to mess with the Lord of the Underworld, for he does not relinquish souls lightly."

* * *

As they walked down the stairs to go to class, Hermione explained what had happened to Rodolphus Lestrange.

"So, I could end up living forever?" Draco asked in disbelief, holding his hands out in front of him.

"Yes, Draco," Hermione replied coolly, not really wanting to know if he would. He looked to her.

"But, that would mean-"

"Yes, I would die, and you would remain alive."

"But-"

"It's too late now," she snapped. "I can't take back what I have done. I'm sure if you throw yourself off the astronomy tower you'd die a rather painful death."

"No, I'm not unhappy about being living again, Hermione," he replied in an anguished voice, his pale cheeks flushing slightly under her harsh scrutiny. "I don't want you to die and leave me all alone here."

"Oh, Draco," she said gently. "You're so sweet sometimes. But, we'll have to worry about that when the time comes. For the meantime, we have to help Harry vanquish Voldemort and get the wizarding world back on its feet."

"You're right," Draco said glumly. "As always, but how on earth am I going to help destroy all the people who I used to be friends with? How could I kill my father?"

"He killed you," Hermione said grimly. "Don't you ever forget that Draco. Your father was willing to sacrifice your life on the altar of power; you can kill him. No one loves him enough to sell their soul to the devil to get him back."

Draco wanted to tell Hermione how much he loved her, but it seemed that anything he said would be pale in comparison to what she had done for him. First she had saved his skin (literally!) and then she had helped him vanquish an evil doppelganger, and to top it all off, Hermione had brought him back from the dead at a rather high cost! Draco, for the life of him, couldn't figure out how to make it up to her.

* * *

He paid a call upon his now foster father, Snape, for help.

"What do I do?" he moaned, banging his head against the slimy wall of the dungeon, and then instantly regretting it. Now he had green slime in his air. He got it out, and then turned to find out what Severus had to say about the situation.

"Well, you could always tell her you love her," Severus said with a rather disgusted expression on his face. "Although, I still can't understand-"

"Oh god, not you too!" Draco snapped. "I can't stand you, the only person I trust telling me that I've screwed up. I have two friends in the world, you and Hermione, and I refuse to have you hate her."

"I don't hate her," Severus said coolly, as if he refused to say her name. "I just find her to be a repulsive pretentious little bitch. She's almost as bad as Potter."

"Potter's not all that bad," Draco said grudgingly. "He's actually a nice guy. You just don't like him because his father was a git."

"I don't hold grudges," Severus hissed, stirring his cauldron with alarming ferocity. "Potter is arrogant and self-centered."

"If he's so self-centered, then why did he help me out when Hermione was mad at me?" Draco shot back, hardly believing that he was defending perfect Potter.

Snape refused to answer, and continued to stir his potion angrily, as if the green mist floating off it could solve all his numerous problems with life.

* * *

Draco wandered up into the Owlery knowing full well that not everything was perfect in the world. His life had been flawless until Hermione Granger waltzed in and got everything right. Surprisingly enough, though he had more problems now, he was the happiest he had ever been.

"How does that work?" he muttered aloud to himself. "How could I lose everything I value and be happier than ever?"  
The owls hooted softly, and his own Circe hooted louder than the rest, as if begging for him to pay some attention to her. Draco raised his arm and she flew to it. He gently smoothed her ruffled feathers and she affectionately pecked at his hand.

"You understand, don't you Circe?" Draco asked the owl. "You understand better than I ever will."


	19. Harry's Scar

Chapter 19

Hermione awoke the next morning and couldn't settle the strange sensation that had settled at the bottom of her stomach. It was if something on the other side of the world had exploded, and the waves of destruction were lapping here upon Hogwarts.

* * *

She raced down stairs and found Harry sitting in front of the fireplace, his eyes fixed upon the charred log.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked, feeling his forehead. He was feverish; his eyes wide and panicked. "What happened?"

"My scar," he whispered. "What has he done?"

"Who is he?" she asked.

"Voldemort," he whispered. Abruptly his eyes rolled up into his head and he flopped over.

* * *

After Ron carried Harry to the infirmary, the two of them rushed to Dumbledore's office.

"Chocolate frogs!" Hermione barked at the door, which slid open reluctantly. They rushed up the stairs, and instead of finding Dumbledore pacing; they found McGonagall at Dumbledore's desk.

"Professor!" Hermione gasped, placing her hands on the desk. "There's something wrong with Harry! He complained about his scar hurting, and then he collapsed! We must see Dumbledore!"

McGonagall stood, her lips pursed, her face pale. "Professor Dumbledore has just left for London!"

"What do you mean?" Ron asked in disbelief. "There's something wrong and Dumbledore abandons us?"

"Mr. Weasley!" McGonagall said strictly. "There has been a catastrophe! Mr. Potter's well-fare is important, but not so important that the Headmaster can abandon his allies in their time of need!"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, panicking. "You can't mean this has something to do with-?"

"Yes," McGonagall said, shuddering slightly. "You-Know-Who attacked the Order headquarters last night."

* * *

Hermione rushed into the Owlery bearing a letter addressed to Dumbledore. Hedwig hooted upon sight of her, and when Hermione attached the letter, she cast her master's friend a funny look.

"I know," Hermione said irritably. "I'm not Harry, but you have to take this to Dumbledore! It's an emergency!" Hedwig hooted again, and took off into the morning sky.

* * *

During Defense Against the Dark Arts Hermione quickly wrote a letter to Draco explaining what had happened. She quickly cast an invisibility spell over it, and then a levitating charm. It zoomed across the room, and hit Draco in the head. He swatted it down, and opened it under the desk. His eyes widened, and then he shredded the note.

* * *

After lunch he met her in one of the empty classrooms.

"So, Harry's in the infirmary, Dumbledore's gone, and…" Draco said, trailing off. "We're doomed."

"That sums it up," Hermione replied tersely. "I have no doubt with Dumbledore gone, that Voldemort will strike, and try to kill Harry. And us."

"Why us?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "We have his book, remember? He has no qualms about killing children, do you think he'll really care about two teenagers?"

"Good point," Draco replied with a decisive nod. "We've got a bit of a problem."

"So, I suggest we all stay with Harry in the infirmary, you, me, and Ron," Hermione said, starting to walk up and down the length of the room. "That way we can have shifts and wake up the others if something happens!"

"Good idea!" Draco replied with fake cheerfulness. "And what if he decides to kill us all with one spell, leaving Harry to deal with him all alone?"

"Don't be so sarcastic," she replied angrily. "Do you have any good ideas, Mr. Intelligent?"

"Thank you darling," he said with a charming smile. "No, but I'm the only one amongst who has ever really used an Unforgivable Curse."

"Harry has," Hermione said quietly. "In the Department of Mysteries last year."

Draco looked surprised. "Perfect Potter?"  
Hermione shook her head. "He's not perfect, Draco. All he want is his parents back, and to be normal."

Draco suddenly felt guilty, but continued anyway. "We should create a shield for the four of us, one that should hold up under bombardment long enough for us to wake up Harry and regroup."

"You're right," Hermione said. "I'll look up a strong enough shield. You'd better find a couple curses or spells that will save our asses when Voldemort shows up. Strong ones that will not only kill him but vanquish his soul as well."

"What about Avada Kedavra?"  
Hermione avoided his eyes. "Draco, he's a Necromancer."

"And?" Draco asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

She closed her eyes as if she were in pain. She opened them again and looked him deeply.  
"We have to get rid of him completely, utterly destroy his soul."

"Why?"

"He's a Necromancer," she repeated. "If he gets a hold of that book, he can raise himself from the dead."

* * *

Hermione gently shook Harry awake and explained the dilemma to him. He watched her with his shattered emerald green eyes, completely calm and ready to face his mortal enemy.

"What if you, Draco, or Ron, get hurt?" Harry asked, not even thinking of himself.

"We'll be heroes," she said with a laugh. When he didn't smile, she gently took his hand. "Harry, we can't let Voldemort kill you! You're our best friend. Plus, I don't want to have to bring you back from the dead, because I don't think I can."

"And, what spell are we going to use to destroy him?" he asked. "There isn't a spell that strong anywhere!"

She whispered it in his ear, and he blanched.

"I can't do that!" he whispered, horrified.

"Look, Harry, you could conjure a Patronus Charm at the age of thirteen," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "You can do this."

* * *

After dinner they all met at the infirmary, and ran over their plan again. Harry remained skeptical, but he knew it was their only hope.

"You guys," he said finally. "You don't have to do this, I don't want you to get hurt in my name."

Draco turned to him with a grin. "It would be a honor to make sure the Boy-Who-Lived remains alive." They all laughed, and then Harry closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

"Hermione, before you cast the shield spell, can I talk to you?" Draco said, pulling her out into the hallway.

"Yes?" she said, looking up into his light blue eyes, and mentally scolding herself when her heart skipped a beat.

"Hermione," he paused as if he were nervous. Finally, he took her hand in his, warming her cold fingers.

"What are you doing?" she asked in disbelief. "What if someone sees you, you oaf? We're in the middle of the hallway."

"I don't care. Hermione Granger, do you love me?"

Hermione let her mouth drop in shock. "What are you talking about? Of course I love you!"

He looked uncomfortable. "Well, Hermione, if I die, I just want you to know how much I love you, and that I love you more than anything in the world. Will you wear this ring, so that if we die, the world will know that I love you?"

Hermione looked up at the sloped ceiling and found the answer in her heart, which skipped a beat when she looked back down into his light blue eyes.

"Of course," she replied regally. He smiled and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened the box slowly, revealing a sparkling deep red ruby ring on a silver band.

"Draco, where did you get it?" she asked breathlessly as he slid it onto her finger.

"Family heirloom," he replied gruffly. "I removed all the jinxes on it, so now it's yours, forever."

She smiled up at him. "Why do I get the feeling that this is much more important than a little keepsake to remember you by?"

He shrugged and hugged her, looking out the window into the starry night sky. He had died once before, and he wasn't all that scared to do it again.

* * *

A/N: Please please please review! I'm begging you... Please review! It would mean so much to me... 


	20. The Battle Begins

Chapter 20

They walked back, hand in hand, to the infirmary, and found Ron sitting on Harry's bed, a funny expression on his handsome face.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, watching him closely. He looked at her as if he had just realized something very important.

"We could die today," he said as if he had recently discovered something very important. "And my mother would simply kill me if that happened." Hermione had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.  
"Ron, I'm sure your mother will not kill you if you die," Draco said, struggling not to giggle. "Don't be so morbid."

"I'm not being morbid," Ron said, grinning. "I'm just anticipating her reaction. Now, Hermione, you'd better cast that shield."

Hermione took a deep breath and raised her wand.

"_Obsto ceteri_!" she said solemnly, and then made a three hundred and sixty degree circle in place, and spontaneously a golden shield popped up around them and two beds. Hermione picked up a spoon from the bedside table next to Harry and threw it at the shield. It bounced off, and fell to the ground. She went over and picked it up.

"That should apply on the outside," she told them, placing the spoon in the bowl. "Now all we do is wait."

* * *

Hermione and Draco were asleep, Draco on the floor, she on the bed. Ron had seen Hermione's ring, and knew how Draco felt. When faced with death it was easy to make decisions. He wondered if Hermione would regret her choice if they came through alive. He knew she wouldn't, but he couldn't help wish she would marry someone like Dean Thomas, or Oliver Wood.

Ron stared into the darkness of the infirmary, his back aching, and he desperately wanted to lie down and sleep. But his shift didn't end for another half an hour. He knew better than to lie down, that would only help his soporific state. Suddenly, he heard voices.

"What?" someone snapped angrily. "They've cast a shield!"

Ron felt as if someone had thrown ice down his back.

"Stupid children," a voice rasped, colder than any ice in this world. Ron raised his wand.

"We've got guests!" he yelled. Draco awoke immediately and jumped to his feet, his wand drawn. Hermione stirred and groggily got her feet. She rubbed her eyes, getting all of the sleep out of her eyes, and became alert as soon as she saw the Death Eaters whom had lined the edge of the bubble.

"Ah, it's the little mud-blood," a voice hissed from underneath a dark hood. "With her pathetic wand."

"What!" someone shrieked from the back, pushing their way to the front. "I killed you!"

Draco's blood chilled, recognizing the voice and the manner of the cloaked figure. Lucius Malfoy was unable to disguise when it came to his deep, commanding voice that left many quivering in their shoes. Someone laughed, making Draco want to run from all of this, return to his former life of spoiled innocence.

"The mud-blood is smarter than we realized, my friends," the man snickered, who's voice made the air still, making Hermione want to strangle him. "She has the powers and the blessing of the Lord and Lady of the Underworld."

"So, she raised him from the dead?" Lucius asked incredulously. "I thought that was impossible!"

"Nothing is impossible," the horrifying voice whispered. Hermione wanted to wake Harry, but that would mean drawing attention to him. For now, Voldemort seemed engrossed in them, leading his attention to Harry would only aggravate the situation.

"That's right," Hermione shot back, her heart thudding like the beating of horses' hooves against hard packed dirt. "We're prepared to prove it!"

"The mud-blood dares to speak your name, my master!" a woman's voice spiked through the air, fervent with worship and a fanaticism that had been her downfall. The woman threw back her hood, revealing the wasted features of Bellatrix Lestrange. Beside her stood what Hermione could only assume was her immortal lover, Rodolphus.

"Hush, Bella," Voldemort hissed languidly, like that of a cat, his movements slow and purposeful. This man, if you could call him that, did not waste his energy on useless gestures.

But Bellatrix would not be hushed. "This disgusting filth dares to speak your name, this pitiful excuse for a witch-"

Voldemort lashed out with his wand, not even uttering the curse, and she fell to the floor, writhing in agony.

"Aghh!" she screamed. Her husband leant over her, his speed and agility belying his youth. She curled into a ball, the hatred on her face not directed to her master, but to them. Hermione drew back, seeing the animosity that burned her flesh.

Finally, Voldemort spoke.

"Let us dispense with the pleasantries. I have better things to do than discuss the merits of a half-grown mud-blood."

"My lord?" Lucius said, raising his wand.

"First, I want Harry Potter to look upon my face before he dies," Voldemort said, the satisfaction apparent in his high-pitched voice. "I want to see him die like his parents, with fear."

The man threw back his dark hood, and Hermione stifled her scream. The face that emerged from beneath the hood was the most horrid thing she had ever seen.

Voldemort had once been handsome, but now his beauty was taut and twisted. His cheeks were hollow and dark, the area around his eyes sunken and shadowy. He looked like a living wraith, a man warped by the evil he had so willing thrown himself into.

Harry stood, and Hermione nearly died of shock. She had thought he was asleep, but he had heard their every word. He was wearing one of the knitted sweaters Ms. Weasley had made him, and the lion on the front made Hermione's heart swell with pride. She had watched the gangly skinny boy grow to a man over the years, and now she was pride to face death with him.

Harry looked Voldemort in the eyes unwaveringly, his beautiful profile burning in Hermione's mind.

"My parents died not with fear for themselves, but fear for me. But they have no reason to fear for me anymore, Voldemort. I am ready to duel with you, and I do not fear death," he said proudly, his shattered emerald green eyes fixed on the monster that had ruined his life with one curse.

Voldemort smiled with sadistic pleasure.

"Then let us begin."

* * *

A/N: Review, please, I'm begging you... review... Thanks to samhaincat who has reviewed faithfully for most chapters! Everyone else... please... I'm dying for some feedback, postive, negative... let me know what you think... anglachel 


	21. Hades' Help

Chapter 21

Voldemort raised his wand, and said one word. The entire shield fell, and the Death Eaters moved in for the kill.

When the shield collapsed Hermione realized how grave their situation was. She had thought they would have a chance with the shield, but without it, she wasn't sure they had very long.

"Everyone in one area!" she said, pulling Draco back until they were almost all against the wall.

"Great," Draco said sarcastically, "Now we're trapped!"

"Shut-up!" she hissed. "We couldn't run, and you know it, so help me plan something!"

"What should we do, Master?" Lucius asked eagerly, as if he wanted to kill his son again. "What should we do?"

"Kill them all," came the cold reply. "Except Potter. I want to destroy little Harry."

They were closer now, and Hermione took a deep breath.

"I'm going to try something," she muttered. "Get Harry in the back, so he won't get killed first!"

She shoved Harry behind them and took another deep breath.

"What are you doing?" Draco murmured, eyeing the Death Eaters with apprehension.

"There isn't really time to explain!" she said.

"I guess not," he said. "But wait-"

She had already muttered the spell, her wand pointed at her ring. Suddenly another shield sprung up, this time it was red.

"Wow," Harry said. "That's a nice shade of pink." Hermione allowed herself to smile, especially when the Death Eaters could not penetrate it.

"So, this gives us time to discover how we're going to do this…" Harry said under his breath. "How long will this damn shield last?"

"It's fueled by something other than magic," Hermione replied coolly, clutching her wand tightly. "I have no idea. Harry you'd better begin talking."

After Harry had finished explaining his plan quietly, they turned back to the Death Eaters, who were still trying to get through the shield.

"You damn idiots!" Voldemort snapped. "She's using herself to fuel the shield!" All the Death Eaters fixed their eyes on Hermione.

"I didn't know that was possible!" Lucius hissed.

"Anything is possible, you cretin," Voldemort said, hitting Lucius across the face. Red blood dripped down the handsome man's face, and onto his cloak. "But since she is within the shield, we cannot directly attack her. There are other ways of making her release this spell which I assume the brat invented herself…."

"How?" Bella whispered, her mannerism entirely subservient and worshipping of Voldemort.

"Summoning my friend," Voldemort said with a smile.

Suddenly Hades appeared, his handsome face wearing a rather displeased expression.

"What is it you want, Tom?" Hades asked, his apparent anger overflowing and spilling across the floor.

"I need you to make this girl release her spell," Voldemort said, pointing to Hermione. Hades turned to look, and nearly dropped his scepter.

"Hermione?" Hades said in disbelief. "My good Tom, this girl is my most loyal and faithful servant. She is in my service for her life, and I cannot do her harm."

"I'm not asking her to do harm," Tom said sweetly. "Just make her release the spell."

Hades cast him a look that can only be described as disgusted. "Don't think me a fool, Riddle. I am a God, after all."

"You know that I will repay you," Voldemort said, slightly annoyed that he was having to ask the God's help. Hades nodded, and flicked his hand.

Hermione cried out and the shield disappeared.

"My Lord have you abandoned me!" she screamed as Hades turned to leave. He looked back at her, and it seemed he smiled.

"My dear lady, I shall never abandon you," he said. With that, he vanished in a tower of blue flames.

"Very comforting, very comforting, Hermione," Ron said, his fear making his voice squeak. "I wasn't expecting to meet the Devil quite yet, but I guess we'll be seeing him in a few minutes."

"No, you idiot," Harry snapped. "A God says he won't abandon you, you believe it!"

"Sorry," Ron muttered.

"No time to argue," Draco said, watching the Death Eaters. "We've got more pressing matters on our hands!"

"Yeah!" Hermione muttered. "We've got trouble!"

"Accio Wand!" Harry shouted, pointing at Voldemort. It flew from his grasp and into Harry's hand. Voldemort furiously took Lucius and screamed,

"Accio Wand!" The wand flew back to his hand and he opened him mouth to curse.

"IMPEDIMENTIA!" Draco yelled, pointing it at Lucius, who went flying backward, and hitting a bed. He slumped to the floor, and everything erupted.

"IMMOBILIS!" Bellatrix screamed pointing at Hermione. Hermione froze in spot, her curse stopped in her mouth. Harry muttered the counter jinx, and yelled a curse that sent Bellatrix reeling. Somehow Rodolphus' hood had been thrown back, his handsome face radiated calmly in the fray.

"STUPEFY! STUPEFY!" Harry screamed, pointing at the nearest Death Eater. Ron was struggling with his wand, as it refused to do as he wished. Hermione muttered the counter curse.

"IMPEDIMENTIA!" Ron screamed at a red light hit Voldemort square in the chest. The Dark Lord flew a few feet backward, and then struggled to his feet. "Hey, it works now!" Ron said gleefully, and cursed another Death Eater.

"I don't know how much longer we can do this," Draco yelled to Hermione over the din. "We can't hold up much longer."

"You have that much right," Voldemort laughed, standing, wiping the deep red blood from his pale brow. "You have that much right, boy."  
A deep silence settled over everyone, and no one moved. It was if they were too afraid to do anything.

"You may kill us," Ron said defiantly. "But death is only another step into a larger picture!"

"That is what you think, you stupid sentimental boy," Lucius hissed. "Beyond Death there is nothing!"

"You know better than that!" Hermione shrieked. "Your own son came back from the dead, so there must be something beyond. Believe what you will, there is something beyond. What, I can't completely comprehend."

"Of course you can't, you stupid little girl," Voldemort hissed. "How could you understand Necromancy?"

"I may not understand," Hermione said, her fury making her shake. "But I have respect for it, unlike you. You destroy everything you touch, you monster!"

"That is so," he snarled. "But I am descended from Salazar Slytherin, and I have the power to make you grovel in submission!"

"You can make my body grovel," Hermione hissed. "But you cannot make me follow you like a sick dog, like these putrid excuses for human beings that lick your shoes!"

"You bitch!" Lucius snapped, lunging. Voldemort whipped out with lightening fast reflexes and Lucius collapsed on the ground whimpering and twitching.

"How cute, my darling little protégé," Voldemort whispered evilly. "You, like Potter, could have been powerful allies. We will meet again in Death, won't we? But, now, you and the rest of your miserable friends must die."

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed... and you know you want to do it again...:) Please...

To absolute power: Shattered eyes is referring to the fact that most people have more than one color in their eyes, such as blue and green, or in my case brown and green, and when you look at some people's irises, it looks like shattered glass. I always thought that was what Draco's eyes would look like. :)


	22. Death

Chapter 22

Hermione smiled, and wondered if her life had been planned to end this tragic, this stupid, way. But when Voldemort stepped forward, his wand pointed at Ron, Hermione realized his simple but crucial mistake. Once again, someone had underestimated Hermione Granger.

"IMPEDIMENTIA!" she screamed, pointing her wand directly at Voldemort. Once again, he went flying across the room, and his Death Eaters roared their disapproval. The room filled with the flashes of light that signified curses, and Hermione pulled Harry under a bed.

"We can't use the spell I had planned on using," she screamed over the din. "You'll have to destroy his body! We don't have enough people for the other one to work!"

"Fine," he yelled back. "But you've got to distract him while I get the hatred up to do it!" Hermione pulled him back up and pointed her wand.

"STUPEFY!" she yelled, and someone fell over groaning. "Draco, you get your Dad!"

Draco nodded stiffly and pointed his shaking wand at his distracted father.

"ABICIO!" he yelled, and Lucius went flying across the room, hitting the back wall and slumping to the ground besides Bellatrix. A trail of blood followed him to the floor. Draco swallowed uneasily, and redirected his attention to the remaining Death Eaters.

"Hermione!" Ron yelled, blood dripping from a deep cut on his temple. "We can't hold them off much longer, we've go to run!"

She glanced at the approaching Death Eaters and nodded.

"Run!" she screamed, pushing Harry toward the door. They all broke into a full out sprint, Draco and Hermione running backward. Hermione saw Voldemort raise his wand and before she could yell "Duck" he had uttered the curse and with a bright flash of ruby red they were all violently pushed to their feet. Hermione groaned as she hit the hard bricks, and hoped that she wouldn't die.

"Pretend you're dead," she muttered to Draco, her ribs aching fiercely, who nudged Ron's foot. They all flopped limply and held their breaths. Hermione could hear the Death Eaters walking around them, watching them with disdain and disappointment.

"I didn't think they would die with such…" Macnair trailed off. "Dignity. I was rather hoping they would die in agony."

"Humph," Voldemort snorted. "Stupid children. Well, that's dealt with, we can leave-"

With a terrible cry Harry leapt to his feet.

"No you can't, Voldemort," Harry laughed manically.

Voldemort's red eyes widened, and Hermione could see the surprise in them, he reached for his wand. "What-?"

"This if for my parents, and for Sirius! AVADA KEDAVRA!" Harry bellowed. A green light issued from his wand, and Voldemort raised his hand to block it, and fell to the ground, his mouth still open in shock.

"Master!" someone shrieked. "That filthy half-blood murdered the Dark Lord! Kill him!" Simultaneously they all raised their wands and opened their mouths to utter the Unforgivable curse, when Hermione struggled to sit up, summoning up all her strength and hopes, whispered,

"Abicio!" All five of the remaining Death Eaters went flying across the room and with a resounding smack, hit the far wall.

Hermione collapsed back to the ground, and everything seemed to fade to darkness. She didn't know what spell Voldemort had used to make them fall, but if she woke up, she was going to find out, it seemed very useful…

* * *

Madame Pomfrey entered the infirmary the next morning to find the walls covered in blood, six badly wounded and unconscious Death Eaters lying in wide puddles of congealed blood, four students who looked to be dead, and one completely and utterly deceased Dark Lord. She screamed as if someone had been murdered, and they had, bringing the entire school and Professor McGonagall to gawk at Lord Voldemort's pale lifeless body.

* * *

Hermione awoke the next day with a wretched headache and a sore back that hurt like a racehorse had sat upon it.

"Am I dead?" she moaned.

"Of course not," Madame Pomfrey replied briskly. "If you were, I doubt you would be able to talk to me."

"It's amazing what the dead can do," Hermione replied tiredly. "I wouldn't be surprised if I was dead and this was all a dream." Madame Pomfrey snorted irritably.

"Mighty good dream if you ask me," Madame Pomfrey replied. "The Dark Lord's dead, you and your friends survived, managed to put a bunch of Death Eaters back in Azkaban where they belong… Very productive for just one night, Ms. Granger."

"Oh, he's not dead," she said, looking down at the white sheets, knotting her hands together. "He's far from dead."

* * *

Hermione's recovery was quick, as were the others. It seemed whatever Voldemort had cast over them was intended to kill them, but something had prevented it from happening.

"I can't fathom why he used that spell, if he intended to kill us, because it didn't work all that well, did it?" Hermione said as they sat together in the infirmary discussing the previous night's events.

"What color was the spell?"

"Red, the color of, well, my ring…" Hermione said, showing them the ring Draco had given her.

"No, it wasn't," Harry said. "It was the color of dried blood, not that shade."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked. "I was positive it was-"

"Hermione, what did you use to fuel that second shield?" Ron interrupted. "Because it wasn't magic, was it?"

"No," she said, blushing slightly. "I used the ring."

"But the ring's not a power source," Harry said. "You would have had to use your own life force to bring that up, or something equally as powerful."

"What did you use?" Draco asked, suddenly interested.

She blushed furiously. "I won't say."

"Just spit it out already," Ron said. "We want to know, and we saved your bum a few times last night, you owe us something!"

"Fine, fine," she snapped. "I used love."

"Love?" Ron said with a disbelieving expression.

"Well, I remembered what Dumbledore had said about Harry surviving, well you know, when he was a baby, and it was his mother's love that saved him. Well, I thought if I could use my love of all of you and focus it into something that would diffract it, that would create a shield."

"Brilliant Hermione, that's brilliant," Harry murmured quietly. "I never would have thought of that. This would also explain the flash of ruby red when Voldemort cast the _Caedere_ curse."

"_Caedere _curse?" Ron asked.

"It's a curse that is intended to kill more than one person at a time, but most of the time it doesn't work, and only succeeds in stunning them all," Harry explained. "That's what Voldemort used."

"That would also explain why the spell color was ruby red," Ron said, suddenly excited. "Because Hermione's shield was still working, we just couldn't see it!"

Draco grinned. "So that's why we weren't killed straight out during the second go-around, because of Hermione's semi-permanent shield."

"But you'll notice that it had weakened in effectiveness," Ron pointed out. "Because I got a bloody nose-"

"And I got a great blow to the head," Harry said. "Don't you all see, the shield was perfect to hold off the major curses! We have to use it next time."

Hermione shifted her legs, as her foot was falling asleep. "Now, we need to discuss what we think Voldemort will do next."

"Does anyone know what happened to the Order?" Ron asked suddenly. "I want to know if my mum and dad got hurt."

"We should probably go get McGonagall's permission to go find out, or we could wait until Dumbledore gets back," Draco suggested, preferring the later, as he did not really want to meet Mr. and Mrs. Weasley after all the horrid things he had said about them.

Ron looked at him indignantly. "You may not be very close to your parents, but I'm not bloody going to let them get attacked by Death Eaters and not go help them out!"

* * *

A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed... and you know you want to do it again! Okay, just letting you all know, there are only five chapters left in this story, but I am working on the sequel as we speak... so it will be continued! Mwa-hahah! anglchel 


	23. The Burrow

Chapter 23

"You'll have to go by the Floo Network," Professor McGonagall said, handing them each a handful of the green dust. Hermione sneezed unexpectedly, and wanted to wipe her nose, but knew that if she did she would simply get Floo powder all over her robes. Draco smiled at her. Ron threw his handful in and stepped into the crackling flames that erupted from the fireplace.

"The Burrow!" he said, and disappeared in a flurry of green flames. Harry stepped in next, and grimly invoked the same place as Ron, and went up in a flash of green.

McGonagall grabbed Hermione's arm before she could step into the fireplace.

"You two must be very careful," McGonagall warned, her eyes fixed on Draco's. "The Dark Lord is looking for the two you. I do not advise you go by Floo powder, but you cannot Disapparate off school grounds, and I am not permitted to create a Portkey for your usage."

Hermione looked at Draco, and they both nodded.

"Thank you, Professor," Draco replied gravely. "We shall take your warning to heart, and will return as soon as our business is finished."

"That would be best, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, casting a worried glance at the large grandfather clock in the corner of Dumbledore's office. "Now, hurry, before Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley become overly concerned about your welfare."

Hermione threw the floo powder into the fireplace, and stepped in, shouting,

"The Burrow!"

She felt a strange sensation, as if she were being flushed down the toilet, in a whirlwind motion that made her stomach lurch. She winced as her foot whacked someone's grate, and she shut her eyes tightly, willing the swirling motion to stop.

Finally, she lurched to stop, and fell coughing from the fire. Draco followed her moments later, a great deal of soot in his pale hair.

"Harry?" she called into the darkened house between hacking coughs. "Ron?" Then she saw the two of them standing to the side, strange looks on their faces.

"There is no one here," Ron said, clearly quite puzzled. "They couldn't be at the headquarters, could they?"

"It's possible, Ron," Hermione said reluctantly. "But since it was ransacked recently, I doubt they'd-"

"What if they're hurt?" Ron said, clearly panicked. "What if they're at St. Mungo's, and no one knows, because the Ministry is trying to keep all the attacks under wraps still?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione said with a flippant roll of her eyes. "Fred and George are part of the Order, don't you think they would have contacted you and Ginny if something had happened?"

"What if they're hurt as well?" Harry asked solemnly.

"There isn't a very high chance of them all being hurt," Hermione said disdainfully. "Plus, George and Fred are always working, you know that. They scarcely have time for family, much less the Order."

"What's this Order thing?" Draco asked.

"We'll tell you later," Hermione said snappishly, turning back to Ron and Harry. Draco felt slightly affronted, but knew when it was best to let Hermione talk, and ask later.

"Do you think we should go to Headquarters and see if Dumbledore's there?" Ron asked worriedly.

"But what if there are still Death Eaters at the house, and that's why Dumbledore hasn't returned yet?" Hermione demanded angrily. "It could be a giant trap!"

"Hermione has a point, Ron," Harry said, looking at his best friend. "We should probably just return to school, and hope that your parents get back to us."

Suddenly, Draco felt a wand jabbing him between the shoulder blades, and someone said loudly,

"Don't move an inch, Malfoy!"

"Who's here with you?" the still anonymous person asked furiously, peeking out from behind the motionless Draco. Whoever it was lit up when they recognized the boys and girl who were standing in front of the fireplace, watching with horror.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley said, running over to her youngest son and hugging him fiercely, forgetting all about Draco. "What on earth are you doing here? Why aren't you at school?"

"We came to check up on you and Dad, Mum!" Ron explained, hugging his plump mother back warmly. "We heard about the attack on the Headquarters, and we wanted to make sure you two were okay!"

"The attack on the Headquarters?" Molly Weasley said, not quite understanding what he was talking about. "What attack on the Headquarters?"

"What do you mean, what attack on the Headquarters?" Harry said, his anxiousness belied by his tapping foot.

"There hasn't been an attack on the Headquarters," Mrs. Weasley laughed. "I don't know where you got that idea!"

Ron turned deathly pale, his freckles sticking out horrendously.

"So," he said, his voice shaking slightly. "This can mean two things. Either Dumbledore lied to McGonagall, or even worse, he's been lead into a trap!"

"So, Mr. Malfoy," Mr. Weasley said fiercely. "What are you doing hanging around my son, you skulking dog!"

"He's with me," Hermione said smoothly, taking Draco's arm. "I vouch for him."

Mr. Weasley seemed as if he wanted to believe her, but something prevented him. "Harrumph," he snorted. "A Malfoy can't change its spots."

"Spots?" Draco said jokingly, looking at his arm. "Wasn't aware I had any." Draco was astutely uncomfortable, but he wasn't going to show it in front of the Weasleys, of all people.

"You better not hurt Hermione, you hear?" Mr. Weasley said dangerously once Hermione had turned away to help Mrs. Weasley with dinner. "That girl is like a daughter to me, and you'll have Ron, Harry, Fred, George, Charlie, Bill, and me, to answer to if you break her heart, you got it?"

Draco was tempted to push the well-meaning man away, but knew that he would feel the same way if in Mr. Weasley's position.

"I understand perfectly," Draco replied calmly, and then adding for an extra measure, "Sir."

"What should we do?" Harry asked Ron's parents as they sat around the dining table. "I mean, what if Dumbledore's in trouble? Something could be dreadfully wrong, and we'd have no idea."

"I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore is fine," Mr. Weasley said gruffly. "If anyone can take care of themselves, its Dumbledore."

"I think the children may have a point, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley said fiercely. "And after supper, you're going to the Headquarters to check up on Dumbledore, you hear?"

Mr. Weasley sighed as if he found this to be rather tiresome, and after he finished his dinner, he Disapparated with a large crack!

The foursome hung out in Ron's small, but cozy room, waiting for Mr. Weasley to return. Ron saw Draco looking around the room with interest, and mistook it for scorn.

"Don't you dare say anything, Malfoy," Ron said dangerously. "Or I'll curse your ass-"

"You'll do nothing of the sort, Ronald," Hermione snapped. "I'm sure Draco means no harm."

"Actually, I thought your Chudley Cannons posters were bloody great," Draco said coolly. "I'm sorry to be such an object for suspicion."

Ron blushed. "Sorry, mate. It's just that-"

"I know," Draco said, looking at his feet. "I've been a jerk in the past, and I want to make it up to you. You guys have been nicer to me than any of my so-called Slytherin 'friends'."

"Us? Nice?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Draco, we haven't given you the time of day, and you call us nice? Your friends must really suck."

"They do," Draco said quietly. "You guys are so lucky to have each other."

Harry and Ron looked at each other quickly, and then back at Draco with their jaws set in determination.

"Well, Draco," Harry said. "We are. And since three is an odd number, it could be considered bad luck so-"

"We decided that you can hang with us whenever you want," Ron interrupted eagerly. "You're not as bad as we thought-"

"And you have a wicked good sense of humor," said Harry with a grin. "You have the real potential to be a fantastic Gryffindor. Not that you can change houses or anything, but-"

"You could always be an honorary Gryffindor!" Hermione said excitedly. "You don't have to hang around us in front of everyone."

"And once my parents get used to you," Ron said gleefully. "You can come hang here over break." He stopped himself, and flushed. "Well, I know it isn't what you're used to-"

"Ron, it's better than any mansion," Draco said with a smile. "Way better."

Suddenly, a crack came from down stairs. The four of them rushed down the rickety steps and into the living room. There they found Mr. Weasley shaking his head as if something terrible had happened.

"What's wrong?" Hermione begged as they rushed up.

He turned to look at them with tired eyes.

"He wasn't lying. Headquarters was broken into, but there was no sign of Albus, or anyone."

* * *

A/N: REVIEWWWW... please. I won't resort to threats or anything, but if you haven't reviewed in a while, oh please do... I'm dying... 


	24. Hermione's Dream

Chapter 24

Hermione gasped, and her stomach began to ache as if Mr. Weasley had punched her.

"What do we do?" Harry asked, his concern for the Headmaster apparent on his face. "We can't just leave him in trouble!"

"You four must go back to school," Mr. Weasley said tiredly. "I shall summon the Order here, and we shall proceed from there. But there is nothing you can do in this situation."

Ron was furious. "Don't treat us like we're four years old! We care about Dumbledore as well, you can't just dismiss us like this!"

"Professor Dumbledore," Mr. Weasley corrected. "You four must remember that your education is very important. This sort of matter should be left in the hands of adults."

"We handled Voldemort and his Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries!" Harry spat angrily. "We've proven that we can handle the Voldemort by ourselves!"

"If you remember, Harry," Mr. Weasley said angrily, "The Order had to interfere to save your hides. This is not the time to argue your merits to me."

"No," Harry said. "It is."

"You cannot come," Mr. Weasley said, suddenly tired. "You must return to school, and that's my final word."

* * *

A few hours later they all tumbled out of Dumbledore's fireplace into his darkened and silent office. The ticking of one of his many gadgets was the only signal that anyone had ever used the office at all. The portraits remained silent, watching them with narrowed, suspicious eyes.

"Professor McGonagall?" Hermione whispered into the gloom, coughing slightly as the ash hung in the air. "Are you here?"

"Lumos," someone whispered, and they found the professor standing in the doorway, her tartan robe pulled around her, her wand raised, looking at them, relief evident on her tired face.

"I just received word from your father, Ron," poor Professor McGonagall sighed. "I simply can't believe that the Death Eaters have taken Albus Dumbledore captive. There must be another more reasonable explanation."

Hermione wanted to sleep, but she knew that everything was going horribly wrong, and right then was not a good time to sleep.

"There must be," Hermione reasoned. "Professor Dumbledore is a far superior wizard to You-Know-Who, I can't comprehend how he would allow himself to be thrown under the powers of the Dark Lord."

"Perhaps he wasn't," Draco suggested. "Perhaps he's perfectly all right, but knows that You-Know-Who was looking for him, and has gone into hiding momentarily."

"But wouldn't the Professor know that his arch-nemesis has been destroyed?" McGonagall said, wringing her hands. "The Daily Prophet has been spewing all sorts of news about your complete destruction-"

"Minor note of correction," Ron said nervously.

"I'll tell her," Hermione said gently. "Professor, you remember how I brought Draco back from the dead?"

McGonagall eyed her star student suspiciously.

"Yes, of course I remember."

"Well, You-Know-Who is a necromancer as well," Hermione explained. "Which creates a bit of a problem because-"

"He can bring himself back from the dead," Harry finished. "I was supposed to vanquish his soul, but we were sort of backed into a corner, and were about to become pulp, so the Unforgivable curse seemed like the only option."

Draco rubbed his stomach nervously, the snake scar seemed to twinge every time someone even mentioned Avada Kedavra, much less performed it. Since he had been brought back from the dead, he hadn't felt quite right…

"Well, perhaps Albus knows this, and that is why he has not returned," McGonagall said finally, as if it pained her to announce this. "But for the time being, you must remain here at Hogwarts. Harry, the Dark Lord will stop at nothing to kill you, you must remain here, or I am afraid your friends will be unable to do anything to save you."

_

* * *

_

_"Hermione," someone was calling. Hermione leapt out of bed and ran to the open window. A golden light seemed to stream through the starry night sky, sending it's shattered rays through the clouds._

_"Yes?" she called, staring star-struck into the light._

_Persephone stepped from the light, her beauty as mesmerizing as the planets and celestial objects she was surrounded by._

_"You must set what has been wrong, right," Persephone said, inclining her head so she could look Hermione straight in the eyes. "The world is out of balance; there is too much darkness. Only two can destroy the darkness. Both are scarred: one has seen the depths of despair, the other has lived his life surrounded by ghosts. The Scarred Ones must vanquish this evil that plagues the worlds. But, unless they work together, and murder this monster, the world will fall into Chaos, and there will be no end in sight. One of the Scarred Ones also shares a trait with one who should be dead, and they also must return to the depths of Hell."_

_"Who are the Scarred Ones?" Hermione begged._

_"I can tell you no more, but this: Beware the Winged Furies!" Persephone whispered, shaking her fair head, and vanishing as abruptly as she had come, leaving Hermione with only a feeling of despair, and the twinkling stars…_

Hermione awoke with a start. The dream had been too real to be anything but prophetic. What was this message Persephone was sending? And who were the Scarred Ones? Harry had a scar, but who was the other that Persephone had spoken of? And did she mean scarred literally, or metaphorically? Hermione groaned and rolled back over. The dead were so confusing some times.

* * *

Hermione stumbled into the Great Hall the next morning, her head aching, and every body part stiff. It seemed that she, Harry, and Ron had become instant celebrities since the Daily Prophet had gotten wind of their deeds, and luckily, Draco had been left out of the news. He did not want more attention than he already had, he was plenty satisfied trying to deal with screaming first-years. She gently pushed away some awe-inspired second years, and made her way over to the crowded Gryffindor table.

Luckily for Hermione, Ron and Harry looked just as horrible.

"I kept having dreams about what happened in the damn Infirmary," Ron said under his breath as he half-heartedly cut away at a sausage. "Bloody Death-Eaters were having a go at me."

"Having a go at you?" Hermione asked, only mildly interested, sitting down and helping herself to some rather appealing looking bacon. It seemed that everyone was having a go at them lately. She hadn't had a chance to discuss Harry's aching scar with him, and that'd had been a whole three days ago!

"I had a dream that I was back in the Department of Mysteries," Harry said hollowly. "I kept seeing him die. Over and over again."

"It seems that all of us had bad dreams," Hermione said, placing her silver on the edge of her gold plate, thinking to herself, at the same time, wondering if anyone was going to eat that last muffin…. "I wonder it this has something to do with Dumbledore."

"Maybe he's trying to send us a message!" Ron said hopefully, his eyebrows disappearing into his shock of red hair.

"By making us relive our worst memories?" Harry said heatedly. "Sounds more like Dementors to me. Dumbledore knows I hate thinking about that day, do you really think he'd make me dream about it?"

"Well, whatever it was," Hermione said suddenly. "The dreams weren't caused by Dumbledore."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Look," she said, pointing to the door near the teacher's table. "He just walked in."

* * *

A/N: Leave a review. Please. :) 


	25. Dumbledore's Return

Chapter 25

"Look there," Ron said, relief evident in his voice. "Returned from the dead, has he?"

Harry shot him a disgusted look. "Don't even joke about those sorts of things anymore, it's just not ethical. Especially since some among us have been dead."

"It's not that big of a deal," Hermione said airily, taking a sip from her orange juice. "Let him make all the jokes he wants, it might turn out that he's got something right for once."

Ron shot her a nasty look, and returned to his sausage with gusto.

* * *

After breakfast the three of them crept into the hallway, hid behind a rather auspicious pillar, and waited for Draco to come along. Presently, he swaggered by, guarded on either side by the still rather chunky Crabbe and Goyle.

"Dormus," Hermione whispered and pointed her wand at Crabbe. He slumped to the ground. Hermione repeated the spell, this time motioning to Goyle. He also collapsed, snoring loudly, to Draco's immense chagrin.

"What the hell?" Draco muttered, staring at his cronies. "They can't have fallen asleep again, bloody hell."

"It wasn't natural, Malfoy," Hermione called teasingly. "You'd better come over here, before someone hears me talking to you." Draco grinned, and jogged over to his friends by the pillar.

"You better have an explanation, Granger," he said with a smile. "But, none the less, very classy."

"You know it," she replied with a wink.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"You two get over each other already," he sighed in mock anger. "We have better things to do than watch the two of you flirt like mindless hippos."

"Mindless hippos?" Hermione said indignantly. "I don't weigh that much, you dimwit!"

Harry snickered and Hermione hit him in the shins with her book-bag. While Harry clutched his knees and groaned, Hermione took Draco's arm and grinned.

"How did you sleep last night?" she asked. His smile dropped, and Harry stopped his fake moans of pain.

"Terrible," Draco replied, shuddering. "Worst dreams I've had in a long time, lord."

"Worst dreams you've ever had?" Ron asked darkly. "We all had bad dreams, except Hermione. She said her's was just weird."

"I dreamed of Persephone," she said quietly, then explaining what the Queen of the Dead had said.

"Wow," Ron said, scratching his head. "Scarred Ones? That's new. There's the Chosen One, like from that movie Harry likes, what was it? Oh yeah, Nebula Wars."

"Star Wars," Harry replied through gritted teeth, his jaw bulging. "And the Chosen One had to do with his ability to use the Force not scars, you idiot."

"Yeah, whatever," Ron said vaguely. "We all have our secret shameful obsessions."

"And your secret obsession is bondage!" Harry replied hotly.

"Liar!" Ron exclaimed, turning redder than her hair, which Hermione had thought was impossible. "You didn't hear that at all. Moving on, another topic, please."

"Right," Hermione said hastily. "What did you dream about, Draco?"

"I dreamt about my dad killing me," Draco said, shaking his head in either anger or despair, Hermione couldn't tell.

"Your worst memory," Harry said with such grimness that Hermione couldn't help cast him a worried look.

"Yeah," Draco said.

"Oh, Crabbe and Goyle are waking," Hermione said. "We'd better head toward Dumbledore's office if we're ever going."

"Good idea," Harry said, pushing them toward the stairs.

* * *

"Well," Dumbledore said after they had explained the entire story to him. "It seems that you four have been in and out of my office almost regularly this month."

"Indeed," Ron said grumpily. "I'd like to stop that soon."

"You four need to stop getting yourselves involved in matters out of your hands," Dumbledore said, a small smile playing on his lips. "School ends at the end of the month, and I don't know how on earth you four would do without each other."

"Professor," Hermione said, changing the subject. "What happened to you? No one knew where you were."

Dumbledore suddenly became grave, and looked at them over the top of his glasses, his expression grim.

"Many things have happened in the last week or so, amongst them, someone who should be dead, has been brought back."

"Besides me?" Draco laughed.

Dumbledore smiled, but remained serious. "Yes, someone who died last year. Someone who was very important to some of you."

Hermione's fears caught in her throat, and before Dumbledore could speak again, she already knew.

"Sirius," she sighed, burying her face in her hands.

When Dumbledore nodded, a shock spread through the room, and for a moment, everyone was silent.

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded suddenly. "Hermione said that it was not possible to bring him back, and even you, Professor, said that it was impossible to get him back."

"I was right, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "This is unnatural. This is a fluke, something is wrong within the balance, and someone had to be sent to help settle the dispute."

"Why Sirius?" Harry asked, his voice choked. "Why?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry with such compassion and understanding that the others had to look away. "Who hates Voldemort more than you, Harry? Sirius' best friends and his life were destroyed by that man, Hades and Persephone know that Sirius will do all he can to help destroy Voldemort."

"There has to be a catch," Harry muttered feverishly. "This is too good to be true, it can't be real."

"It's real, Harry," Hermione whispered, wondering how she had known so instinctively. "But, Sirius will have to return to the Elysian Fields once You-Know-Who is obliterated."

"Of course," Harry laughed manically. "As soon as I get him back, I'll have to lose him again!"

Ron gently patted Harry on the back, hoping that his movement would not set off another flurry of emotion.

"Harry, you'll get to spend the summer with Sirius," Dumbledore said gently. "I'm fairly certain that Voldemort will take at least a few months to regroup his Death-Eaters and regain his strength. By then, you'll have returned to Hogwarts, and will be once again under my protection."

"Do I have to go stay with the Dursleys?" Harry asked dully. For a split second it looked as if Dumbledore could deny Harry nothing, but his face quickly fell into an apologetic state.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Dumbledore said gently. "For the first half of the summer, yes, but around your birthday you can come to the Headquarters."

Harry smiled quietly, and Hermione felt a great sense of calm settle over her, and she hoped that maybe, just maybe, everything would settle down for the summer.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, just had to put in that part about Harry liking Star Wars... I'll admit, I'm obsessed! Completely besotted. Only a few more weeks until Episode 3! And only one more chapter until Disfigurement is finished. Want to say thanks to everyone who's reviewed, and if you haven't in a while, go ahead and do it now. :) anglachel  



	26. Platform 9 and 34

Chapter 26

Hermione finished packing with a satisfied flick of her wand, and shut the suitcase with a loud zip. It had been weeks since they had defeated Voldemort, and Draco had been brought back from the dead. Ravenclaw had won the House cup, and Gryffindor the Quidditch cup. It seemed that everything was finally settling down, but she knew that the summer would be anything but peaceful.

* * *

"Ready to go, Hermione?" Ron asked as they finished their breakfast. Hermione placed her silver on her napkin, and downed her orange juice.

"Of course," she said with a smile.

"What are you doing this summer?" Harry asked as he finished his bacon. "Are you going somewhere with your parents?"  
"Nope," she said, grinning to herself. "Won't tell you quite yet. You'll find out soon enough."

"The summer is going to pass so slowly," Harry said grumpily. "I don't think I can wait until my birthday!"

"You'll have to," Hermione said sympathetically. "Sorry, I'd help you if I could."

"I know you would," Harry said sadly. "But I'll just have to stick it out with those stupid Dursleys."

"I guess so," Ron said, just as grumpily. "You'd better write. Or there'll be hell to pay."

"Hell to pay?" Harry said, raising his eyebrow.

"Hell," Hermione said strictly, "Hell is nothing to be spoken of lightly. You should know this, Ron."

Ron blushed furiously and then grinned, his cheeks flame red.

* * *

The train rumbled away from the Hogwarts platform, and Hermione stared up at the castle that had become her second home.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, placing his cold hand on her arm. She nearly jumped, startled by his movements.

"Nothing," she said tiredly. "It's just that so much has happened over the last month, I feel as if everything's come to an end."

"Come to an end?" Ron asked sarcastically. "We wish. Sirius is back, Voldemort is quasi-dead, and I have a head ache."

"What's the worst?" Harry asked jokingly.

"The fact that I have a migraine," Ron laughed.

* * *

The summer sun fell upon the train, and it seemed as if the entire countryside was singing. Hedwig was clearly itching to flap off into the sun with the other birds, and was hooting plaintively at them as they played chess.

"Come on, stomp on the bloody pawn," Ron was howling angrily as Hermione's pawn soundly trumped his. Hermione smiled smugly, and Ron growled irritably.

"Teaches you for trying to cheat, Ron," Hermione said, laughing. "Don't get all sullen on me, I wasn't the one who was trying to slip my opponent's queen a Knut!"

Ron continued to growl, and Harry released Hedwig into the afternoon air. He watched her fly off into the blue sky, hoping that she remembered to return when they reached King's Cross Station.

* * *

King's Cross Station loomed in the distance, and Hermione quickly pulled her trunk from under the bench.

The unloaded their belongings, and as they did, Hedwig flew up and returned to her cage, holding a lizard in her beak proudly. She offered to Harry, who tried as politely as possible to dissuade her from giving the rather grisly gift.

Alastor and the other members of the Order were standing on the platform, watching Harry, Ron, and Hermione with a look that could be described as pride.

"'Ello Harry!" Tonks said cheerfully. "We heard about your escapades with You-Know-Who in an infirmary of all places! Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Harry said with a slight smile.

"Don't be congratulating him yet," Moody said grumpily. "Voldemort's not dead yet. He's got a lot to go through before then, and you know it Tonks."

"Ah, put a cork in it Moody," Tonks said without missing a beat, even Moody's dire warning was unable to dent her good attitude. "Harry, you've survived him another year. Good job, keep up the great work! You two as well," she said, addressing Harry's silent friends.

"Good job, Hermione, Ron," Kingsley said, his deep voice shaking Hermione's bones. "You two have shown yourselves to be worthy witches and wizards, and true friends."

"Thanks," Ron said, puffing up slightly.

"Now," Moody said, turning to Harry. "You need to go with those muggles, you know the one's."

"Yeah," Harry said, his displeasure apparent on his face.

"You can give the old gits the same warning I gave last year," Moody said with a slight yawn. "You answer our owls, or we'll be down on you like Beaters to a Bludger."

Harry nodded with a grin, and started walking to the Dursleys, who were standing by a pillar, watching Harry with a mixture of fear and distaste. Mr. Dursley clearly recognized Moody, because his face had turned a rather ugly shade of plum, which reminded Hermione of her father's dog's barf.

"You two keep in touch with Harry, all right?" Tonks said, eyeing Harry's aunt and uncle with wary distrust. "You know his last summer stunk bloody hell?"

"Yeah, he told us," Ron said, sounding rather lonely.

"Well, we'll see you two at the end of July," Kingsley said, as they all turned away.

"Wait," Hermione interrupted. "Do you think you could tell Sirius we said hello, and that we love him?"

Kingsley nodded, and smiled, and the three of them Disapparated with a crack.

"Well," Ron said tiredly. "I guess I'll see you around July, then. My parents'll be here any moment to get me. I'm going to go find Ginny, and then head out. See you later."

Hermione waved, and he walked away toward a mess of redheads on the far end of the platform.

Gradually, the platform emptied, and Hermione was the only person remaining. She stood in a golden pool of light, while the Hogwarts Express released steam into the already hot summer air.

Finally, she saw him coming, walking across the platform, looking at the ground, and toting a trunk. His blond hair caught the sunlight, and he looked up.

She was caught in the swirling blue of his heavenly eyes, and she sighed in absolute bliss.

"Hello," she said as he approached. "How was your trip?"

"Fine," he replied, setting his trunk on the ground. "And yours?"

She shrugged. "It's always hard to say good-bye to Harry, and send him off to stay with his horrid muggle relatives. I feel guilty about sending him into a nest of vipers."

"They really that bad?"

"Yeah," she said, holding her elbow.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and she found that she was twirling her ring self-consciously. It was like they didn't know each other, even after they had saved each other's lives numerous times. But, Hermione realized, that they really didn't know each other very well, they knew vague things about each other's lives, but in reality, they were strangers. But that was what the summer was for.

"Ready to go?" he asked, smiling at her.

"Of course," she replied. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, and it seemed as if time stopped.

When he pulled away, she slid her arm into the crook of his elbow, and they set off into the setting London sun, to whatever, they didn't know what, but they knew they would be together.

The End

A/N: Okay, that's the end of Disfigurement. Sorry to end with such a non-descript boring ending, but I felt that perhaps they'd been seeing too much action lately, and they needed something to just reflect on what had happened to them.

The sequel is called Prophecy, and it's just been started.

Please review the last chapter, and if you're still interested, look for the sequel in the next couple days!

Thanks to all my faithful readers, you guys rock my world.

XOXO  
anglachel


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